Agent Rhode Island: Shipwrecked
by TyForestWrites2
Summary: (Book 5) After crashing on an unknown planet, Rhode and the Reds and Blues are forced to hang out in the box canyon they crashed in. And with Carolina and Epsilon/Church gone, things get more difficult than usual. (Agent Carolina x OC mentions)
1. Prologue: Crashed

**Hey guys! This is TyForestGames** and welcome to my new RvB story: Shipwrecked. Since Season 11 didn't have a name, I figured I'd give it one. But yep, this covers the events of Season 11, so let's get right in!

 **XXX**

 **Prologue: Crashed**

In a spaceship out in, well, space, two soldiers were waiting patiently for the next ship to arrive. These two are Ian and Anthony. They've been through a lot together, what with surviving an oil rig explosion, a skyscraper collapse, being shot in the stomach, and their boss being killed and forced to run away due to a former Freelancer.

But the two have reformed. They joined the UNSC as new recruits. They had a boring job, refueling passing spaceships, but it was better than being shot at. But today, the ship that was supposed to be arriving was running late.

"Hey Ian?" Anthony finally said, "Weren't we supposed to do something around 4?"

"Well, yeah," Ian said, "Didn't you hear about those guys?"

"What guys?" Anthony asked.

"I don't know, those sim trooper guys."

"Okay..."

"They were like these criminals that helped track down that evil dude with the secret organization!"

"Okay..."

"And they fought these robots and evil AI's and bounty hunters and that one guy who was like, 'Raaaaah!!' and they threw him off a cliff and one of them died a bunch and another guy that was bad, then good and-Oh!- there were these ghosts, but after that they were pardoned and stuff."

"Just get to the point!" Anthony yelled.

" _Soooooo_ , they were going to be transported back home."

The two were silent for a second before Anthony spoke again.

"Ian?"

"Anthony?"

"I love you."

"Umm, okay... What?"

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah...?"

"But if you don't tell me what this has to do with us, I AM GOING TO SHOOT YOU!!!"

"Okay! Okay! Look, they were going to be transported back home on this huge ship and it was supposed to stop for refueling today."

"...Oh. Well then, where are they?"

 **XXX**

Deep in a distant jungle, a trail of smoke billowed up over the trees, out from the small box canyon far from any civilization. The smoke came from the wreckage of a transporter ship, lying broken and scattered across the canyon. Around its hulk, two teams of Spartan-II super-soldiers, each colored in various shades of red and blue respectively, stood and assessed the damage.

"Not my fault," one Spartan in blue armor murmured.

"Absolutely, your fault," his teal teammate retorted.

Then one Spartan in scuffed red armor chuckled to himself, "Well, looks like we're gonna be here a while, better build some bases. Grif, Simmons, let's get to work!"

"Yes, Sir!" a maroon Spartan replied loyally.

"Oh, work? I hate work," his orange teammate groaned, "Work is the worst."

As the Reds set off to build a base, another Spartan, wearing cobalt blue-and-yellow armor, just sighed and slapped his hand over his visor. "I think I am going to regret this."

The last Spartan, wearing green armor with blue highlights, looked around and said, "Hey, where's Carolina?"

 **XXX**

 **Off trying to stop illegal trading. No big deal. And that's the prologue. I'm not gonna lie, 11 is not my favorite season. So, don't expect anything big. Till next time guys!**


	2. Chapter 1: One-Zero-One

**Chapter 1: One-Zero-One**

On a distant planet many light-years from Earth, in the depths of a vast jungle, dawn had broken over a small box canyon, the sun's beams glinting off the wreckage of a large transporter ship and off the crude base built beneath it. After a while, a figure stepped out of the building and surveyed the scene before him. The man had the face of someone who'd been through the wars; his grey-green eyes had dark rings under them, a scar ran along the side of his forehead and his grizzled brown hair was scruffy and uncombed. He was dressed in a suit of Mark VI MJOLNIR armor, the kind worn by Spartan-II super-soldiers like him, colored cobalt blue with bright yellow stripes and he carried his helmet under one arm.

For a few moments, the Spartan stared around in silence. Then he made his way down to the ship's wreckage and looked it over for a while. A sigh escaped the soldier's lips then he sat down on a boulder, pressed a small button on his right gauntlet and spoke into a hidden microphone.

"Journal entry one-zero-one: Agent Washington. It's been a while since I've done one of these so, uh, let's get caught up to speed," Washington paused for a moment to look up at the sky then continued his entry, "Everything can be traced back to Project Freelancer, a military organization gone horribly wrong. The men in charge were corrupt, and the soldiers who followed them were blind. Guess which side I was on?"

He sighed and bowed his head, remembering all the moments when everything went wrong, "Eventually it was the project's own creations that tore it to pieces and I was the one sent out to pick them up. I recovered weapons, armor, and AI fragments, all in an effort to keep the wrong people from getting them first, but I was too slow. Everyone fought over the remnants of Project Freelancer. I didn't think I could believe in anyone anymore. But then... I met the Reds and Blues."

 **XXX**

Wash paused at this point and looked up towards the base. He could see one of his teammates, a Spartan wearing regulation blue armor, strolling across the canyon.

Then another Spartan, this one wearing red armor that looked scratched and dented and had sergeant stripes on the shoulders, approached him from the other side, "Hey, Caboose!"

"Hello," the blue soldier called as he turned round.

"We've got a proposition for you," the red Spartan replied in a gruff Southern accent.

"For me?" Caboose gasped, "Oh well, you shouldn't have."

Wash chuckled to himself then went back to his journal, "They had been used by the Freelancers just like I had. They were cannon fodder in a conflict with no purpose. But more importantly..."

 **XXX**

He looked up again and saw Caboose and the Red Sergeant making their way towards a teal-armored soldier leaning against the tread of a Scorpion-Class tank, flicking an energy sword on and off like a thug in a darkened alleyway.

"Tucker, the Reds gave us a proposition," Caboose called out, "We should really send them some sort of thank you basket like... fruit."

"Proposition just means a choice, you idiot," Tucker retorted.

"Oh," Caboose murmured, "We will take the fuzzy one."

"But you don't even know what the proposition is yet," the Sergeant pointed out.

"Well then, we don't know that it isn't fuzzy then, do we?"

 **XXX**

With a shake of his head, Wash continued his journal, "... They were just stupid enough to trust. Together, along with two more Freelancer friends, Carolina and Rhode, we were able to put an end to everything; the Freelancers, the AI, even the Director of the whole operation. They're all gone. And as for us, well..."

He looked back at the wreckage and sighed, "We're shipwrecked, crashed during our ride home. And if we're not rescued soon, I have a feeling something else might find us first. This is Agent Washington signing-"

KABOOOOOOMMM!!!

A huge explosion rocked the canyon and Wash leapt to his feet in alarm, pulling his helmet on over his head, "Oh, what now?!"

 **XXX**

That explosion came from outside a roughly built base on the other side of the canyon, where at this moment, the Sergeant, better known as Sarge, was sitting in the cabin of the Blues' tank, firing its cannon at their own home.

Nearby, his maroon-armored teammate, Simmons, watched as Sarge fired another round which hit the canyon wall, "You missed, Sir."

"Dag nabbit!" Sarge bellowed, slamming his fist on the cabin console, "Who set this thing to inverted?"

"Well sir, statistically most users enjoy..." Simmons broke off when he heard Sarge grumbling and quickly took a few steps back, "Well, er, it was probably Grif, sir."

"Hey! What the crap is going on out here?!" At those shouts, a young man dressed in orange armor came running out of the base, carrying his helmet under one arm.

He had long brown hair tied up in a ponytail and a startled look in his blue-grey eyes, "Who's firing at our base?"

"We are," Sarge replied.

Grif's jaw dropped and his helmet fell out of his hands, "You are?"

"Our base is in desperate need of renovations," Sarge explained, "Figured I'd tear down the east wing and put in somethin' nice and decorative, like a mortar cannon."

"And it didn't occur to you to warn me before you started blowing holes in the side of the wall?" Grif asked.

Sarge was silent for a moment then he fired the tank's cannon again, hitting the wall right next to Grif, forcing him back, "Oh come on!"

"Direct hit, Sir," Simmons said.

"No it wasn't," Sarge sighed.

Just then, an angry voice rang out behind them, "What are you two doing?!"

Sarge and Simmons turned to see a cobalt-and-yellow Spartan running down the hill towards them.

"Well, if it isn't our good friend Agent Washington," Sarge smirked.

"Don't try to butter me up," Wash snapped, "Also, please refrain from pointing that at me."

"Fine," Sarge growled, turning the tank's turret away.

"We were just borrowing the tank for a little construction work," Simmons explained.

"Really? And which of my men authorized this?" Sarge and Simmons swapped knowing glances.

"Just try to guess who," a soldier in green armor with blue highlights, Agent Rhode Island, or Rhode, said, walking up.

"...It was Caboose, wasn't-"

"Probably," Caboose cut in, running up behind Wash.

Wash sighed then stepped up towards the tank, "Sarge, get out of the tank."

"Not a chance, Blue!" Sarge retorted, "Possession is nine-tenths of the law. The other tenth is a tank. I've got both. Besides, we need it to upgrade our quarters."

"Your quarters are fine," Rhode said.

"Yeah! Now get out of the tank, you senile old-" Grif was cut off as Sarge fired at the ground before him, throwing him off his feet, "Oh, come on!"

"Finger slipped," Sarge muttered, giggling to himself.

"Out now!" Wash ordered, climbing onto the tank.

"My turn!" Caboose called out.

"Please be quiet," Wash said.

Caboose stepped back then he hissed, "My turn."

Ignoring Caboose, Wash pulled open the canopy, manhandled Sarge out the cabin and threw him to the ground, sending him sprawling in the grass.

"This is an outrage!" Sarge yelled, staggering to his feet, "Blue Base is built directly below the crash site. You've got an unfair advantage."

"Sarge, the Reds and Blues aren't fighting," Rhode protested, "We're just camped at opposite ends of the canyon, in color divided teams... while heavily armed."

"True," Sarge admitted, "But have you ever considered that fightin' is just in our nature? It's almost instinctual. If we're not constantly trying to stab each other in the back... we'll surely die."

"Dear God, I hate you," Wash groaned, slapping his hand over his visor.

"That's the spirit," Sarge gave a hearty chuckle.

"We may not be fighting," Grif cut in, dusting his armor down, "but you're still closer to the food storage than we are, and that is something that I will not stand for."

"You won't stand for anything, fatty," Simmons scoffed.

Grif turned and glared at his teammate, "If you were a few feet closer, you'd be sorry."

"If we don't ration our food, we'll all be sorry," Rhode pointed at a large satellite dish built between the two bases, pointing towards the sky, "We've yet to get our communications dish online and if we run out of food before we can radio for help, we're screwed."

"Buzz kill," Grif muttered.

"Come on, Caboose," Wash called, climbing into the cabin, "We need to go have a chat with Private Tucker."

With that, he drove the tank back towards the Blue Base and Caboose and Rhode ran off after him.

"There goes the revered leader of the Blue Army," Simmons sighed, "What a jerk."

"Fine! We don't need that tank anyway," Sarge called out, "As many great 21st century movies trailers once said, this... is only the beginning. And then text would appear on the screen, and the music would cut out abruptly, and they'd say one, final line of dialogue to leave the audience with the ultimate sense of excitement!"

"Like what?" Grif asked.

Sarge thought for a moment then shrugged, "I don't know."

 **XXX**

 **It's true though. Till next time guys!**


	3. Chapter 2: Keep Your Tucks in a Row

**Chapter 2: Keep Your Tucks in a Row**

At the Blue Base, Private Tucker had just finished his favorite alone time activity when he heard a loud rumbling coming from outside. After quickly dressing in his armor, save for his helmet, he ran outside and spotted the tank rolling up towards him.

His face went a paler shade of brown and his eyes widened behind his glasses, "Oh crap..."

Just then, Caboose came out from behind the tank, "We are back."

"Caboose?" Tucker let out the breath he'd been holding in relief, "Christ, I thought you were in that thing. Wait, who is in that thing?"

Right on cue, the tank's canopy opened and Washington climbed out of the cabin, "Hello, private."

Tucker gulped in terror, "Oh crap."

He turned to run back into the base, but Wash leapt nimbly off the tank, grabbed Tucker by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back, "Tucker, what is the one thing I tell you each and every morning?"

"Wake up?" Tucker winced.

"The other thing."

"For the love of God, stop sleeping naked?"

Wash moved his hand up to Tucker's black hair and pulled it roughly, making the teal Spartan cry out in pain, "Don't let anyone touch the tank."

"Okay," Tucker groaned in agony as Rhode walked up, "I can see where you're going with this."

"Until we're rescued, we need to be more mindful of the supplies that we have."

"I know, I know," Tucker replied, "Ration the food, maintain our equipment."

"Brush your teeth," Caboose added, "don't talk to strangers; try not to shoot anyone while they're trying to brush their teeth."

Wash pushed Tucker forward, sending him sprawling face first in the dust, "And always report in to me."

"Do we have to?" Tucker groaned, sitting up.

"Yes. I even put up that old Blue Team organizational chart to help demonstrate the point."

As Tucker got to his feet, he looked towards an old chart pinned up on the wall outside the base. The chart had been with the Blues since he'd first arrived at Blood Gulch, showing him and Church as the lower ranks and Captain Butch Flowers as their leader. Since that day, Flowers had died of a heart attack and Church had changed the roster so that he was the leader then Caboose came along so he'd added his name next to Tucker's. Three other names showed on the chart; Doc, whose involvement with was questionable before he was crossed out, and Sister, whose name should have been removed, because the Reds had told her she was dead, and Rhode, who had arrived at the same time as Sister. Now Church's name had been crossed out and Wash's name was written next to it, declaring that he was the leader and Rhode was second in command.

"Yeah, but we never really listened to that," Tucker admitted, "Church just kinda shouted orders and we'd get around to them... eventually. Or we wouldn't, whatever."

"He was an inspiration to us all," Caboose sniffed.

Rhode sighed at Caboose and looked to the sky. Though the Blues had known their leader as Church, they'd found out that Church was in fact an AI called Alpha, from which all of Project Freelancer's AI fragments had come from. Tortured and manipulated for many years, the Alpha had eventually forgotten who he was, and the Director had discretely hidden him in Blood Gulch to protect him from the Freelancers who'd gone rogue.

That was years ago though. Alpha and the other fragments were gone now, destroyed by an EMP that Wash had set off. All, that is, except for one fragment, the Alpha's memories. This fragment, Epsilon, had been rescued by the Reds and Blues and eventually reactivated, taking on the personality of the original Alpha, so the others just kept calling him Church. With his memories, he, Wash, and another Freelancer, Carolina -his... Best friend? Who happened to be the girl he fell in love with? Never mind- were able to locate the Director and put an end to his Project, for good.

Now Rhode shook his head, bringing himself back to the present, and turned to Tucker, "Well, Church and Carolina decided to run off without so much as a goodbye. So it's up to me and Wash to keep us all together. Maybe if someone hadn't have crashed the ship, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Whoa, wait a second," Tucker cried, taking a step back, "Why are you looking at me when you say that?"

"I just have a hard time believing that thousands of well trained crew members were to blame for the incident," Wash agreed.

"Well, they definitely didn't survive it," Tucker laughed at his joke then stopped and sheepishly cleared his throat.

Wash raised an eyebrow, "Wow."

"Yeah..."

"You proud of yourself?"

Tucker sighed and bowed his head, "No..."

"Yeah, that was too soon," Rhode grimaced.

"P-Probably too soon for sound effects too," Caboose agreed.

He then turned round and made some quiet noises, "Meeeeer, oh God help us. Kapow."

He turned back and saw the others glaring at him, "Yeah, that's too soon."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Sarge paced up and down in front of his two privates, "Absolutely unacceptable!"

"I couldn't agree more, Sir," Simmons replied loyally.

"But you have no idea what he's going to say," Grif pointed out.

"Oh right," Simmons realized, "Yeah, I just got a little excited."

"You are the worst kind of person," Grif sighed.

"Quiet, morons," Sarge snapped, "We've got a situation on our hands."

"Which is?" Grif hinted.

"The deplorable condition of Red Base."

"You're still hung up on that?" Grif cried astonished, "We're stranded in the middle of nowhere surrounded by a mysterious, and seemingly uninhabited jungle might I add, and you're worried about the condition of our makeshift fort?"

"Besides," Simmons added, "I don't think our base is even that bad."

"Well... I wouldn't say that."

"What? What's wrong with it?"

"Seriously?" Grif pointed towards the top of their crude shelter, "There's an enormous hole in the roof. Every night it rains, I get washed into the corner!"

"Oh, well yeah, there's that," Simmons admitted, "But I mean overall."

"And the majority of the west wing is made up of sandbags and rain tarps," Sarge said.

"Which reminds me," Grif butted in, "If we have rain tarps, why aren't we using them to cover up the hole in the roof?"

"Listen," Simmons said, holding his hands up to quell the atmosphere, "I think you guys are blowing this whole thing a little out of proportion."

"You're just saying that because you're the one that designed the base," Grif retorted.

"Well, I did a better job than you would have done."

"That's not sayin' much," Sarge muttered.

"I bet I could at least do it in a better location," Grif scowled.

"But this is the best location." Simmons waved his hand towards a small fenced-off area next to the base, "The sunlight is perfect for maintaining my vegetable garden."

He then pointed up towards a huge black funnel jammed into the rocks overhead, "And the faulty engine from the ship should keep us warm all winter."

"But aren't slipspace engines extremely radioactive?" Sarge pointed out.

Grif stared at the engine for a moment, "Well, that would explain why my hair keeps falling out, and why all your cabbages have three heads."

Simmons gave a loud sniff, "I thought I was just really good at farming."

"No, Simmons," Grif replied, turning to head back to base, "You're good at other things, like always being on time, maintaining your virginity."

"Oh yeah?" Simmons yelled at his back, "Well, we'll see who's laughing when my garden produces a bountiful crop in the coming harvest!"

"Glad to hear you still have that virginity on lockdown, buddy!" Grif countered.

 **XXX**

 **Okay, that was a burn. Burn dude. Burn. Sorry. Had to quote Donut there. Till next time guys!**


	4. Chapter 3: Barriers to Entry

**Chapter 3: Barriers to Entry**

"Sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three..."

At the Blue Base, Wash and Rhode watched as Tucker did some squats, as part of his new exercise routine for the Blue Team.

"Sixty-six," Tucker grunted as he trained, "Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine..."

He suddenly stopped, still crouching on the ground.

"Tucker, you can't keep stopping on sixty-nine," Rhode scolded.

"No," Tucker groaned, "This time, my legs went out."

Wash sighed and shook his head, "Come on."

He stepped forward and helped Tucker get to his feet.

"Oh, holy Christ," Tucker moaned, "I haven't been this sore since that bachelorette party on Burban Street."

Wash folded his arms, "You want me to believe you did an entire bachelorette party?"

"I want you to, but really the groom just showed up and cracked three of my ribs."

"That's what I thought."

Tucker sat down on a rock and stretched out his aching legs, "Why do we have to train so much? We never had to do squats when Church was in charge."

"Exactly," Wash replied, "I'd say you two have fallen out of shape, but generally in order to fall out of something, you have to be in it first."

"Hey, that's funny," Tucker giggled, getting up from the rock, "You should try comedy, Wash. Why make one person miserable, when you can work over an entire room?"

"Alright!" Wash shouted, "Time for sprints."

"Screw you!" Tucker snapped.

"I want five laps around the canyon."

"Die in a fire!"

"Six laps, around the canyon!"

Tucker let out an angry growl but as he was about to set off, he looked round in confusion, "Hey, why isn't Caboose down here? Shouldn't you be making him do dumbbell rolls, or inverted push-ups or something?"

Rhode sighed and looked towards the Base, "I think he's having one of his... off days."

Tucker nodded sympathetically, "Oh..."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, at the Red Base, Sarge came down the ramp inside the building to where Grif and Simmons were waiting, "Men, it has come to my attention that we have been approachin' this base problem from the wrong direction."

Simmons frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I mean we've been approaching it from the outside," Sarge replied, "What we should have been focusin' on is the interior, the layout is all wrong. Upon reflection, I realized that a man of my military expertise requires more private quarters; a place where I can reflect on my vast victories, and contemplate on my non-existent failures."

"Is the place called denial?" Grif teased.

"Which is why I ordered Private Grif to erect this new wall."

Simmons glanced around the whole chamber for any sign of a new wall, but found nothing, "Okay, I give up."

"The sandbags," Grif sighed, pointing behind him.

Simmons turned and spotted a small layer of sandbags lying along the doorway, "What? That's the wall?"

Sarge ran up to look at the bags then turned to glare at the orange Spartan, "Grif, I asked you to give me a proper erection, not to stiff me!"

Simmons gave a loud chuckle, "So glad Donut's not here."

"Hey, it's not like I'm an expert carpenter or something," Grif retorted.

"This isn't even carpentry; this is stacking things in a straight line... poorly."

"Well, it's all I could find, so build a bridge and get over it!"

"Hey, Grif, when I build a bridge, should I use sandbags or you know, something useful?"

"Useful or not," Sarge cut in, stepping over the sandbags, "I hereby declare that from this point forward, this side of the wall is to be reserved for my own personal use."

"Wait, wait, wait," Simmons cried, "You get half of the base to yourself? What about me and Grif?"

"Sorry Simmons," Sarge yelled out, turning his back on them, "Afraid I can't hear you from the next room; these walls are just too thick!"

"But I-"

"Enjoy your new roommate!" Sarge called out, running into the base with a chuckle.

Grif then stepped forward, "Ground rules, if there's a sock on the door, don't come in."

"But we don't have socks, or a door," Simmons pointed out.

 **XXX**

Back at Blue Base, Wash and Rhode left Tucker to his sprints and went into the Base to check on Caboose.

As they approached the sleeping quarters, he could hear loud depressed noises coming from inside, "Sigh... Groan... Oh, woe is me... Oh, I don't know what that even means..."

As they stepped inside, they could see a helmetless Caboose staring at the mirror, not feeling his usual self.

"Still standing in the corner, Caboose?" Rhode asked.

The saddened Blue turned around as he heard Rhode's voice, and the former Freelancers could see the streaks of tears running down his cheeks.

"Oh yeah," Caboose sniffed, wiping his hand over his eyes, "Yeah, I just... I just miss Church sometimes."

"I know you do, buddy," Wash sighed. He knew that Caboose had shared a deep friendship with the original Church; a rather one-sided friendship, true, but a friendship nonetheless.

It was the main reason why Caboose had revived Epsilon in the first place, so he could be friends with him too.

And now Epsilon was gone, Caboose was left without a good friend, "He was your leader for a very long time."

"Yeah, I am just... I'm just so lost without him!" Caboose lifted up his helmet and gazed at it for a moment, "I... I don't even recognize my own face!"

"Well, you don't have your old helmet anymore, Caboose," Wash pointed out awkwardly, "Also, your helmet and your face are not the same thing."

Caboose looked up at the mirror again then back at his helmet, "Oh God, that explains the blinking contest. Why'd you have to tell me that? Ohh, you just made it worse."

"Wash," Rhode said, "Why don't you let me handle this?"

Wash nodded and walked off.

Rhode stepped forward and placed a hand on the Blue's shoulder, "Look, Caboose, I'm sure that somewhere out there, Church is thinking about how much he misses you too."

Caboose turned round, his face looking hopeful, "You really think so?"

Rhode just grimaced slightly, remembering one of the last conversations he'd heard Caboose and Epsilon had once; Caboose just rambled on and on about almost nothing, and all Epsilon did was yell at him to shut up, "Yeah... but listen. I know how you feel. In fact, if anyone should be in your position, it should be me."

"Really?" Caboose sniffed, "Why?"

"You know Carolina? Well... She's my best friend. Well, more than that to me, but anyway, when she left, I didn't know what to think. But I knew she would miss me and I would see her again. So, no need to worry."

He then led Caboose out of the base, "Why don't you go for a walk? Take a little time to clear your head."

Caboose just nodded slowly, "Yeah... Yeah, I'll just... I'll go on a walk by myself, I guess. That won't be depressing at all."

With that, he put on his helmet and set off into the canyon, but moments after he left, he let out another moan, "Oh God, I'm walking by myself now. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhh!"

Rhode sighed and shook his head, "What am I going to do with him?"

He then looked round and spotted Tucker walking slowly towards the base, "Wash said sprints, Private Tucker!"

"I'm going to spit in his next meal!" Tucker snapped, picking up the pace, "And it's not going to be spit, if you know what I'm talking about!"

 **XXX**

 **Ewww... That's just disturbing to even think about. Why did I leave that in again? Till next time guys!**


	5. Chapter 4: Heavy Mettle

**Chapter 4: Heavy Mettle**

With a heavy heart, Caboose wandered across the canyon towards the walls, still despondent over Epsilon's departure, "Depression... Loneliness... Confusion... Slight indigestion..."

After a while, he stopped and gave a huge sigh then he took off his helmet, wiped some tears from his eyes and looked up to the heavens, "Oh Church... I miss you so much! Who is supposed to be my best friend while you are gone? Tucker? That guy isn't even a shade of blue. It's like an... aqua."

Suddenly, a loud clattering noise rang out from the cliff and Caboose started in alarm, dropping his helmet which rolled off down into a dark cavern.

"Hello?" he called out, raising his rifle as he approached the cave, "Who's there? Tucker, is that you? Rhode? Agent Washington?"

He stopped at the entrance, keeping his finger on the trigger, "Hello!"

"Hello..." a faint voice responded, sounding just like Caboose.

"Oh, that was just me," he sighed in relief, "That was stupid."

He knelt down to pick up his helmet then called out, "Have a nice day!"

"Thanks, you too!" his echo replied.

"Well, I am a very pleasant person," he chuckled, turning to leave.

But then another clatter rang out, much louder this time, and he whirled back round with fright.

"Okay, me, you can cut it out now!" he called out nervously, "This is getting a little silly."

Cautiously, he stepped further into the cave... and what he found inside made him gasp in amazement, "Hello..."

 **XXX**

At the Blue Base, Washington and Rhode led Tucker over towards a cave in the cliffs by their base.

"Tucker," Wash said, "in basic training, there is a point when the drill sergeant attempts to 'break' his or her soldiers, so that they may overcome their civilian mindset and focus on the responsibility and selflessness of becoming a true soldier."

Tucker frowned, "Uh, bro, I went through basic ages ago. True soldier, standing right here!"

"What's the UNSC motto?" Rhode asked.

"When in doubt, rub it out."

Wash stepped right up to Tucker's helmeted face and narrowed his eyes. "I am going to break you, Private Tucker."

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my armor," Tucker scoffed.

Wash then pointed to two construction cones acting like a marker in front of the cave, lInside this tunnel is an elaborate obstacle course, designed to test both your reflexes and your mettle."

"Uh, like copper?"

"No, that's metal, I said mettle."

"Whatever."

Wash took out his pistol and raised it to the air, "On your marks... get set..."

"This is such bull- OW!" Tucker yelped as Wash shot him in the leg and he darted into the cave, "Okay, I'm going!"

 **XXX**

He leapt over a low wall of sandbags then he shot at four cones mounted on some crates but only succeeded in hitting one, "Stupid cones!"

A barrier made of wooden crate lids was taken out with one swing of his energy sword but the moment he entered the next chamber, he was blown backwards by some mines, "Jesus Christ!"

As he then crawled down a low tunnel, bullets flew out from nowhere and bounced off his helmet, "Oh God, where is this coming from?"

He emerged out into a huge desert landscape and took off running as soldiers opened fire on him, "Who are these people?!"

Then suddenly a Warthog-Class jeep roared round the corner and he pelted into the next tunnel to escape before it could fire at him, "WHAT THE CRAP IS GOING ON?!"

 **XXX**

Finally, he emerged from the tunnel, crossed the finish line and collapsed in a heap at Wash's feet.

"Congratulations, Private," Wash praised, checking his time on the stopwatch, "That time was... adequate... for a beginner."

Tucker just gasped and panted like he'd been almost drowned, struggling to get his words out, "What was... I don't..."

"Just an adrenaline rush, Tucker," Rhode reassured, "It'll wear off."

"I'm... I'm..."

"Shaking in your armor?"

Just then, Caboose came running up to them, muttering to himself in glee, "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy... Hello, hello, hello!"

"Caboose, glad to see you're feeling better," Wash called out, "I've got a little exercise for you! Inside this cave is an elaborate obstacle course, designed to-"

But Caboose just ran into the tunnel and two seconds later, he crossed the finish line and ran off into the base, "Okay, that was fun, gotta go do stuff, don't ask questions, thank you, goodbye!"

Wash's jaw dropped as he looked at the stopwatch again, "I... think that's enough training for today."

"Yeah," Tucker agreed breathlessly, rolling onto his back.

"Uh, I'm gonna go work on the Comm. Tower," Wash decided, setting off into the canyon.

"Yeah..." Rhode said, stunned.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Simmons came out of the sleeping quarters and spotted Grif as he came down the ramp, "Hey roomie, uh you got a second for me?"

"'Sup?" Grif called.

"Oh, you know, not much, not much," Simmons replied nonchalantly, clasping his hands behind his back, "Uh... Oh, so, question for you..."

"Uh huh."

"By any chance have you seen my toothbrush?"

"Uhhh, I don't think so."

"Okay, okay. You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Huh," Simmons rubbed his chin in thought, "Cause I'm pretty sure I saw you with it earlier."

Grif frowned in concern, "Dude, you're acting weird."

"Huh, what?" Simmons replied, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, clearly you're accusing me of using your toothbrush but instead of just coming out and saying it, you're being really passive aggressive and tiptoeing around the accusation."

"Huh," Simmons grunted.

"You did the same thing when I left the lights on and when I put my boots on your side of the room."

"Mmmhmmm," Simmons murmured through pursed lips.

"And I feel that there's this constant tension growing between us that's inevitably going to erupt over what would normally be considered a small issue."

"Yeah, well, you know," Simmons said with a shrug, "I wouldn't be asking you about my toothbrush if I hadn't seen you with it earlier."

"I used your toothbrush."

"YOU JERK!!!" Suddenly, Simmons lashed out and slammed Grif into the wall, pointing his rifle at his head.

"Dude, what's wrong with you?" Grif gasped.

"What's wrong with me?" Simmons snapped, "What's wrong with you?! You keep stacking dishes in the sink! I don't even think you've eaten off of some of them! For all I know, you're doing it because you're bored!"

"Wait, isn't the sink just where dishes go?"

"NO! They go in the cupboard!"

"We have a cupboard?"

"Hey, keep it down in there!" Sarge bellowed, running up to the sandbags that divided their base, "I'm tryin' to watch my stories."

Upon hearing Sarge's voice, Simmons let go of Grif and ran up to his side of the bags.

"Sarge, please tear down the wall!" he begged, "I can't take Grif's laziness in small spaces!"

"I'm sorry, Simmons," Sarge replied, "But we all have to make sacrifices... except for me because I'm in charge."

"Hey, Simmons," Grif called out, getting to his feet, "This probably isn't the best time to say this, but, uh, we're out of toilet paper."

"What?!" Simmons screamed, rounding on Grif, "HOW!?"

Grif just glanced over his shoulder, remembering that he'd been out TP'ing the Blues' tank, but then quickly decided against telling Simmons, "I dunno."

Simmons gave an angry growl and stomped towards Grif, intending to throttle him like there's no tomorrow.

Just then, a loud cough rang out behind them and the Reds turned to find Wash coming down the base's ramp, "I believe you borrowed my toolbox."

"What do you need a toolbox for?" Sarge asked.

"Repairing the Comm. Tower," Wash replied, "I know you three are having fun playing house, but I'd really rather leave this place."

"Playin' house?" Sarge cried, stepping over the wall, "Son, this is a highly- Whoops, forgot to use the door!"

He stepped back over the bags and ran off to the door on the other side of the room.

Wash sighed and rolled his eyes then turned to the others, "The toolbox."

"Upstairs," Grif replied.

"Show me."

"Fine," Grif sighed, leading Wash up the ramp into the sleeping quarters, "But don't touch any of my stuff!"

Simmons watched them go then seconds later, he heard Wash's voice cry out in disgust, "Ugh, this place is a pigsty!"

"It's not a pigsty, Wash," Grif retorted, "It's a way of life."

Simmons then turned to his leader who had just entered through the side door, "Hey Sarge, didn't we recover an old robot-building kit from the crash?"

"Sure did," Sarge replied, "It makes a great foot rest! I like to prop my feet up while I'm watchin' my stories."

"Well, if we were to repurpose the robot's radio transmitter for the Comm. Tower, we might be able to-"

"Whoa, hold up," Sarge cut in, raising his hand for silence, "Simmons, I'm going to have to stop you before your terrible plan becomes any more terrible."

"Oh..." Simmons bowed his head in disappointment.

"Fortunately, I believe we may be able to use this robot kit to build some sort of robot! We could put it to work constructing a radio transmitter and then the Comm. Tower would be fixed in no time!"

"Well, don't you think it would be better if-"

"Not at all," Sarge interrupted, running back over the sandbags, "Let's build a robot!"

Simmons' shoulders sagged and he shook his head, "I hate them."

Then Wash's voice rang out again, "Are those my socks?"

"Yeah," Grif admitted sheepishly, "But you probably don't want those back."

Simmons sighed in dismay, "I hate all of them."

 **XXX**

 **Yeah, but like Sarge said in Season 8, you don't have anywhere else to go. Till next time guys!**


	6. Chapter 5: A Real Fixer Upper

**Chapter 5: A Real Fixer Upper**

Once he was able to scrounge up the toolbox and some equipment from the ship's on board Warthog-Class jeeps, Washington returned to the Comm. Tower and set to work on its repairs.

For several hours, he worked on the transmitter while Tucker handed him tools, but as night fell over the canyon, the teal Spartan was still worried about their situation, "I'm just saying, I still think somebody should have found us by now."

Wash just nodded as he picked up a socket wrench.

"You know, it's like, if a plane crashes and disappears, that's fine, civilians, whatever."

"Not sure if I agree with you on that," Wash muttered.

"But this was a freaking spaceship," Tucker held out his arms to show the scale of the wreck, "That's like, national tragedy level of important."

"It was a big ship," Wash agreed.

"And what about GPS? The Galactic Positioning System should have been able to inform Command of our location within seconds of a mayday."

Wash dropped his tool and turned to look at Tucker, "How do you know that?"

Tucker suddenly looked nervous. "Uh..."

 **XXX**

 _Flashback_

On board the transport ship, all the crew were hard at work, making sure their passengers were comfortable. Grif was in the cafeteria catching up with his Oreo diet, Simmons and Wash were exploring the ship's levels, Sarge was keeping an eye on Caboose, making sure he didn't touch anything or 'accidentally' kill anyone and Tucker was getting a guided tour of the flight deck.

The soldier giving the tour had now pointed out a special piece of equipment and was explaining how it worked, "...And the Galactic Positioning System would be able to inform Command of our location within seconds of a mayday. So even if the ship were to crash, rescue would be practically immediate. Isn't that rad?"

But Tucker wasn't really listening, "Yeah, cool, nerd stuff."

He then eyed the cockpit with a cheeky grin, "Hey, Smirgler, is it just me or is that blonde over there checking me out?"

Smirgler turned round to see who Tucker was looking at, "Who, the pilot?"

"Yeah, she's definitely checking me out," Tucker chuckled then he ran towards the cockpit.

"Wait!" Smirgler cried, "You can't go over there!"

But it was too late. Tucker had stepped up to the pilot and leaned against the seat, "Hey baby, I hear you're a pilot. Think you can pull up on my throttle? Bow chicka bow wow!"

At that moment, alarms began to blare around the ship and red lights flashed on.

 _End Flashback because I'm sure you can work out the rest_

 **XXX**

Tucker gave a loud cough, "I... read it in a book?"

"I don't believe you," Wash retorted, returning to his work, "Then again, I don't really care."

"Phew..." Tucker breathed a sigh of relief.

Wash then got to his feet, "Hey!"

"Whoa, whoa, what? Nothing!" Tucker yelped.

"What happened to my soldering iron?"

"Oh, uh..." Tucker cleared his throat, "I don't know."

"No!" Wash snapped, slamming his fist on the console, "This would be going so much faster if I didn't have to keep tracking down equipment every five minutes."

"What, you think the Reds took it?"

"Let me put it this way..." Wash picked up an old shotgun and then spoke in a rough imitation of Sarge, "'Men, it appears our crappy fortifications weren't meeting my ridiculous standards. Let's steal Washington's tank and fire at our walls; that'll fix it.' Yes, I think the Reds took it."

"Man, why are you so wound-up all the time?"

"Because every second we're here is another second closer to death... or worse."

Tucker frowned, "What's worse than death?"

"I... don't know," Wash admitted, getting back to work, "I just thought it sounded dramatic."

"Come on," Tucker scoffed, "It's not that bad. I mean, if we were back at Blood Gulch, we'd be doing the exact same stuff, you know?"

Wash looked up and glanced suspiciously around the canyon, "There's just something about this place... I can't help but feel like we're being watched."

"Oh, please. People get that feeling all the time. I had it for years."

"But that's because you were being watched! You were monitored by a secret organization for every second of every day."

Tucker looked around for a moment, as if he was trying to spot some hidden cameras, "Well, I don't feel like I'm being watched now."

"Thank you," Wash sighed sarcastically, "I feel much more secure."

"Don't be a jerk," Tucker scowled.

"Then don't be an idiot," Wash snapped, grabbing his teammate's chest-plate.

"What is your problem?"

Wash sighed and pushed Tucker back, "My problem is that you're absolutely right. Somebody should have found us by now."

He then turned back to his toolbox, "Now where the heck is that soldering iron?"

 **XXX**

At that moment, Caboose hurried back across the canyon towards the hidden cave, soldering iron under one arm and welder's mask in his other hand. He hoped Wash didn't need it for anything important. Soon, he entered the cave and approached a huge pile of rusty metal debris and knelt down next to it.

"Boy, you are lucky I came by," he said with a smile, "What's a little fella like you doing way out here?"

Just then, the pile shifted and Caboose placed a hand on it, "Hey, no moving! I have to get you out of here first."

With that, he put the mask on over his face, switched on the soldering iron and set to work on the scrap, a possessed grin on his face, "Don't worry, we're gonna be best friends..."

 **XXX**

The next morning, at the Red Base, Sarge had just about finished his new robot. It was dressed in dark brown armor and its head was bowed low, its eyes black and lifeless.

Nearby, Grif and Simmons were caught up in yet another argument.

"You're an idiot," Simmons scowled.

"Am I, Simmons?" Grif retorted, folding his arms, "Or am I just a man willing to ask the hard questions?"

"You're definitely an idiot," Simmons repeated.

"You're both idiots," Sarge called over his shoulder, "Now keep it down, I'm trying to focus."

"Think about it," Grif cried, "Terminator; The Matrix; Battlestar Galactica... Everything points to robot domination of the human race!"

"Well, technically," Simmons cut in, "Some Cylons rely more on synthetic biology and not just simple robotics. But that was only in the series reboot, and you know those things are pretty rare."

"Fine, then Wall-E. It doesn't matter! I just think it's strange that we're not already bowing down to our robot overlords."

"I'm a cyborg," Simmons reminded him, "You want to bow down to me?"

"Pass," Grif scoffed.

Simmons then pointed his rifle at Grif's head.

"Screw you, meat sack," he spoke in a robotic monotone, "Your logic is flawed."

Grif sighed and slapped a hand over his visor, "You are the biggest nerd, you know that, right? I mean you really know that?"

"You must construct additional pylons. Berrrp, beep, vuuurrrp."

Just then, Sarge got to his feet, "Well, Optimus Prime's knuckles, I think we're in business."

He then gave the robot a hard slap on the back and stepped back as it powered up. Then it slowly raised its head and its eyes glowed a gentle green.

With a chuckle, Sarge turned to his two privates, "Ladies, I would like to introduce you to the latest addition to the Red Team."

Grif and Simmons stared at the robot for a moment then Simmons frowned, "Can it talk?"

The robot took a moment to regard his new team then after a while, it spoke, "Ola." (Hello.)

"Oh come on!" Grif cried.

"Dang it!" Simmons added.

"Hmm, that is an unfortunate coincidence," Sarge muttered.

"Spanish," Grif groaned, shaking his head in dismay, "Why is it freaking Spanish? Why not French, or German, or Sangheili?"

"Lo siento," the robot apologized, "¿Mi elección de idiom no complacer te? Mi configuración del sistema actualmente se establecen en Español." (I'm sorry. Does my language choice not please you? My system settings are currently set in Spanish.)"

Sarge just gave a hearty chortle, "You know, it almost feels like the good ol' days; just me, the Spanish speakin' robot and a couple of complete idiots."

Simmons frowned, "You're talking about Grif and Donut, right?"

"Thanks, moron," Grif snorted.

Sarge patted the robot on the shoulder, "Lopez Dos.0, it's good to have you on board."

"Gracias, maestro," the robot replied, "Es mi deber-" (Thank you, Master. It is my duty to-)

"Now get to work, slacker!"

Lopez Dos.0 looked startled, "¿Perdón?" (Excuse me?)

"Comm. Tower, middle of the canyon, repair-o los rapido."

"It's Spanish, Sarge, not Harry Potter," Grif sighed.

Lopez Dos.0 rubbed his chin in thought, "Sueno como si usted tiene algun equipo que está en necesidad de reparación. ¿Eso es correcto?" (It sounds as if you have equipment that's in need of repair. Is that correct?)

The Reds just swapped confused looks.

"Hmm, it's not doing anything," Sarge grunted.

"Maybe he's stupid," Grif suggested.

Sarge turned to Lopez Dos.0. "Robot, do you... understand... us? Comprehende?"

"Sí," Lopez Dos.0 replied with a nod. (Yes.)

"Well, he knows what we're saying," Simmons noted, "So... I guess he's just stupid."

"Les puedo asegura," Lopez Dos.0 insisted, "Éso a realizando a una encima de la media-" (I can assure you, I am performing at an above average-)

"Oh, poor stupid Lopez Dos.0," Sarge sighed, "Well, let's just take him over to the Comm. Tower."

"Why?" Grif asked, "He's a moron."

"Yep," Sarge admitted. "But maybe he'll end up being a Rain Man type moron. We can get him one of those gray suits."

Lopez Dos.0 just bowed his head, "Haré mi mejor dispuesto para servile a usted amo." (I will do my best to serve you.)

Simmons just sighed and shook his head, "What a shame."

 **XXX**

 **If only you knew Spanish, Reds... Till next time guys!**


	7. Chapter 6: SOS

**Chapter 6: S.O.S.**

In the canyon, all was quiet. A small flock of birds landed by the caves to gather some seeds then suddenly a loud whirring noise rang out from inside the cave, followed by a loud yell that startled the flock.

"It's alive," Caboose called out, "It's alive! It's ali- Aw, now it's dead."

But then another loud whir rang out.

"No, it's alive again!" Caboose cheered, "Oh thank God, that was close."

 **XXX**

At the Comm. Tower, unaware of their teammate's actions, Rhode and Tucker glanced over some equipment at the tower's base then looked up to where Washington was still working, "Okay, how 'bout now?"

Wash flicked the radio's switch on then off again, "Nothing."

"Hold on," Tucker disappeared under the tower for a while then came out again, "Okay, try it again."

Wash flicked the switch again, "Still nothing."

"Crap," Tucker groaned.

Wash then ran up to the edge of the platform and looked down at Tucker, "Hey, what exactly are you doing down there?"

"Oh, you know... calibrating."

Wash raised an eyebrow, "Calibrating."

"Yeah."

"You haven't done anything, have you?"

"Nope!" Rhode answered.

"Dude, I don't know what I'm doing or why you sent me here," Tucker said.

"Right," Wash sighed, turning back to the radio, "Guess I should have expected that."

"Hey, Wash," Rhode then called out, "I think we got a situation."

"What kind of..." Wash tailed off as he looked up and spotted the Reds approaching the Tower, "Oh."

"Good to see you too," Grif snorted.

"What do you want?"

"We figured it'd be a good idea to come over and lend a hand," Sarge replied.

"No, that's a terrible idea," Wash retorted, "Please don't touch anything."

"But we could provide tech support!" Simmons insisted.

"Have you tried usin' any D batteries?" Sarge added.

"Power isn't our problem," Wash replied impatiently, "These battery arrays are solar."

"Well, there's your problem. This baby needs to be converted to diesel on the pronto!"

"Solar is field-standard for communication systems."

"Well, ooh-la-la, Private Hippy!" Sarge replied in a mocking sing-song voice, "Hey, I got an idea: Why don't we just plant a garden and grow some organic sun-dried tomatoes, and open a farmer's market? Then on the first Saturday of the month, when the UNSC ships show up to buy some fresh sustainable produce, we just hop aboard and ride back on the power of love!"

Wash glared at him for a moment, "Tucker, if they touch anything, or if he makes any more suggestions, prod them with your sword."

"Oh yeah," Tucker chuckled as he switched on his sword, "Now that's something I can get behind! Bow chicka bow-"

He paused suddenly, "Wait, no! No no no no no!"

"Fine," Sarge huffed, "Well, I guess you don't want any help from our incredibly advanced robotic companion."

At this, Lopez Dos.0 stepped forward and waved to the Blues.

"Ola." (Hello.)

"Nope!" Wash called out.

"Racist," Grif muttered.

"Hey tree-hugger, what if I told you it runs on recycled cooking grease?" Sarge teased, "It's perfect. Grif sweats the stuff."

"What else was I supposed to drink once we ran out of soda?" Grif agreed.

"There's always water," Simmons replied.

"Please," Grif scoffed, "What are we, cavemen?"

"I said no," Wash yelled.

"¿Seguro que no quieres ayudar?" Lopez Dos.0 asked, pointing to some disconnected cables hidden behind some crates. "Esto parece ser una solución relativamente simplé." (Are you sure you don't want help? This looks like a relatively simple fix.)

"Whoa," Rhode gasped, hearing the robot's words, "Is that Lopez?!"

"Not exactly," Simmons then whispered behind his hand, "This one isn't very smart."

"En serio, chicos," Lopez Dos.0 insisted, "Estoy buscando en el problema. Yo puedo arreglarlo ahora." (Seriously guys, I'm looking at the problem. I can fix it right away.)"

"Umm, guys?" Rhode said, but everyone ignored him.

Tucker stared at the robot for a moment, "How can you tell?"

"Oh, a mother knows," Sarge replied.

"Bueno," Lopez Dos.0 decided, "Si nadie me va a parar, voy a arreglar se torre de radio." With that, he ran off towards the cables and set to work. (No one is going to stop me, I'm going to fix your radio tower.)

"Go right ahead," Rhode gestured quietly.

"Why don't you three go check on our food supply?" Wash suggested, "It's been a while since I've done a full inventory."

"You can't shove your grunt work on us!" Simmons snapped, "What do we look like?"

"Uhhhh... Grunts?" Tucker replied.

"Tucker, I want 100 squats," Wash ordered.

"What? But it was leg day yesterday!"

"You are a space marine, private. Every day is leg day."

Tucker groaned as he began his squats, "This is bullcrap."

"Ha!" Grif gloated, "Who is the grunt now?"

"Your sister was my grunt if I remember correctly."

"What did you say to me?"

"No one is a grunt," Wash yelled, losing his patience, "Now both of you be quiet."

Grif bowed his head, "Simmons is kind of a grunt."

"Hey!" Simmons snapped, "What the crap?!"

"Ah, can it, Private Grunt," Sarge ordered.

"Yes, sir," Simmons replied.

Grif and Tucker snickered.

"I said BE QUIET!" Wash bellowed, smashing his fist into the radio box... and suddenly the radio switched on with a loud trill.

Grif's jaw dropped in amazement, "Holy crap..."

"It's working..." Wash stared at his fist then back at the radio then gave a disbelieving laugh, "I don't know what I did, but it's working!"

"Camaradas! He reparado la torre de radio!" Lopez Dos.0 called out, emerging from beneath the platform, "¿Estás satisfecho con mi actuación?" (Comrades! I have repaired the radio tower! Are you pleased with my performance?)"

"Lopez, you're ruining the moment," Sarge scolded.

"Congrats," Rhode said in pity.

Quickly, Wash switched it on and began his broadcast, "Mayday, mayday, this is Agent Washington, can anyone read me? Over."

They waited tensely, but there was no reply.

"Maybe they're screening our calls," Grif suggested.

"What do you mean 'they'?" Simmons asked puzzled, "Who's 'they'?"

"I dunno, people who know us?"

"What?"

"Look, I wouldn't pick up the phone if any of you guys called me."

Wash tried again, "Mayday, mayday, we are survivors of a shipwreck and are in need of immediate rescue. Please respond."

"Don't call them back right away," Tucker said, "You gotta wait or else you'll look desperate."

"But we are desperate!" Simmons pointed out.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Wash screamed.

And everyone was immediately silent except for Grif who just breathed, "Whoa..."

Taking a breath to calm down, Wash got back on the radio, "Mayday, mayday, this is Agent Washington and the Red and Blue troopers of Project Freelancer! We are stranded, does anyone copy?"

He waited for a response but none came.

"Mayday, this is Agent Washington, I am a soldier."

Still no reply.

"Is anybody out there?"

Again, the radio was silent.

"Can anybody hear me?!"

Then finally a faint voice, slightly obscured by static, responded on the radio, "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Yes!" Wash cried out in relief, "Yes, we're here! Do you read us?"

"Hello?" the voice called out, "Is this a prank call?"

"No no no no, this is real!" Wash insisted, "Please you have to listen to me! My men and I are shipwrecked!"

"It's an emergency!" Simmons yelled.

"Black Hawk down!" Grif shouted.

"Code Red!" Sarge bellowed.

The voice was silent for a moment then... "What? Like a lightish red?"

At this, everyone's jaw fell open in shock.

"What the crap did he just say?" Rhode breathed.

"'Cause I mean, red is a pretty broad spectrum," the voice continued, "There's scarlet, vermilion, like a deep burgundy."

Immediately, Sarge ran up to the radio and pushed Wash aside, "Donut, is that you?"

"Sarge?" the voice gasped in amazement, "Oh hey guys, what have you all been up to?"

"We're stranded in the middle of the jungle with dwindling food and limited supplies."

Donut let out a low whistle, "That sucks."

"No kidding, moron!" Grif shouted.

"Donut, I need you to listen to me," Sarge called out urgently, "You need to send help. Call Command."

"Command?" Donut asked puzzled, "I think I know a guy if you want to turn this call into a three way."

"No, don't do that," Sarge cut in, "I need you to write down these coordinates."

While Sarge gave the coordinates, Wash turned to the others, "Who is Donut again?"

"Cheery guy," Simmons explained, "Pink armor."

"Kind of stupid," Grif added.

"And a little..." Tucker waved his hand horizontally.

Wash then remembered something. "Wait, did I shoot him once?"

"Bingo," Rhode replied.

"Got it," Wash said, "And he's competent enough to trust with our lives?"

At that moment, Donut spoke up, "Sorry, did you say five or nine?"

"I said eight," Sarge replied.

"Oh."

"Right..." Wash quickly took over from Sarge, "Okay, Donut, these are our last known coordinates but be sure to let the rescue team know that we've got no clue where we actually landed."

"Don't worry, guys," Donut reassured, "No matter how deep the bush, Private Donut always finds his man."

Sarge swapped a very nervous look with Wash, "Roger that, son."

"What was that?" Donut called out, as static frizzled into the radio, "You're breaking up."

"Just send help as fast as you can," Wash shouted.

"Okey dokey!"

And with that, the connection was lost.

At the base of the tower, Grif gave a hopeful look, "So what happened?"

Sarge sighed and jumped down from the platform, "Well boys, I don't want to jinx us or anything like that, but..."

He then looked up with a huge grin on his face, "We're gonna be rescued!"

"YAHOO!" Tucker cheered, throwing his deactivated sword into the air.

"We're saved!" Grif shouted gleefully.

"I can't believe help's coming!" Simmons yelled.

"Yes!" Rhode pumped his right arm in the air.

Wash glanced at the tower nervously, "Now guys-"

"There's no possible way anything can go wrong!" Sarge yelled out, "Everything is going to be good forever!"

Grif and Simmons linked arms and launched into a wild victory dance. Tucker leaped onto the bonnet of the Warthog and jumped up and down in joy.

"Guys," Wash called out, "It can still be a few days before they-"

But Sarge wasn't listening, "Let's eat all the food rations tonight and then fire all of our excessive ammunition indiscriminately into the air and celebrate!"

With loud cheers, the Reds and Tucker drew out their guns and began to shoot them into the air.

"Then let's fix up that old Warthog that's been hanging around near our base!" Simmons yelled.

The gang's cheers quickly faded into confused mutterings.

"...So we can crash it into the other Warthog because screw it!"

Everyone cheered once again, all except for Wash, "Listen, let's not get our hopes up just yet."

"Aw, come on, Wash, lighten up," Rhode called out, "We did it, we made contact."

Wash thought about it then jumped down to join them, "Well, it is the first good news that we've had in a while."

Just then Caboose came running up to the group, helmet under his arm and a big grin on his face, "Hey everyone!"

"Caboose, where've you been?" Rhode asked.

"Yeah, I went on a walk like you said," Caboose replied with breathless gusto, "And now, everything is going to be good, forever!"

"Told ya so!" Sarge laughed.

"Wait," Wash cried, furrowing his brows in confusion, "Caboose, you were miserable. What happened?"

"Oh, where are my manners?" Caboose gasped, slapping his forehead, "I haven't even introduced him."

"Introduced who?"

In reply, Caboose glanced over his shoulder, "Freckles! Come!"

He put two fingers into his mouth and gave a loud shrill whistle.

Suddenly, loud heavy footsteps came thumping down from the other side of the canyon, shaking the ground and knocking Tucker and Grif off their feet. Wash, Rhode, Simmons, and Sarge just stared in mute horror and even Lopez Dos.0 took a step back in alarm... as a huge machine came stomping into view.

The gun metal green machine looked very humanoid, except it was as tall as two Spartan-IIs standing on each other's shoulders. It stood on two double-jointed legs and had a long column built between it like a metal loincloth. Its right arm ended in a big machine gun turret and its left had a missile launcher in place of a hand. It had a radar dish over its left shoulder and inside its torso, a small white seat was built into it like a small cockpit.

Caboose stepped up next to the machine and patted its leg.

"Everyone, I would like you to meet Freckles!" he shouted, turning to look at the robot, "Freckles, say hello."

The robot regarded the Reds and Blues then focused its attention on Grif and Simmons.

"ENEMY SOLDIERS DETECTED," it announced in a deep robotic drone.

"No, those aren't enemies, Freckles," Caboose replied, "Those are Grif and Simmons... our enemy."

Freckles raised its missile launcher arm and began to power it up, "FIRING MAIN CANNON."

"No!" Caboose scolded, hitting his helmet on its side, "Bad Freckles! Down!"

"YES, MASTER," Freckles replied, obediently lowering its arm.

"Bad Freckles..." Caboose then turned to the others, "So, what have you guys been up to?"

Everyone just stared in horrified silence, except for Grif, "Ehh... um..."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, in the depths of a dark, misty forest, a lone figure sat under the shade of a tree, listening to the static on the radio. Then suddenly, the static faded and a faint voice called out.

"Mayday, mayday, this is Agent Washington and the Red and Blue troopers of Project Freelancer! We are stranded, does anyone copy?"

The figure sat up and looked towards the radio, listening to the voice, "Mayday, this is Agent Washington, I am a soldier."

He got to his feet and stepped out of the shade, the sun glinting off his armor which was steel-grey with sage-green stripes.

"Is anybody out there?"

He listened intently as the voice continued its broadcast.

"Can anybody hear me?!"

As the radio's signal faded, the figure gave a sinister grin, a grin that was hidden behind his visorless helmet, and picked up his gun...

 **XXX**

 **And the plot thickens... Till next time guys!**


	8. Chapter 7: Can I Keep It?

**Chapter 7: Can I Keep It?**

At the Blue Base, Tucker, Rhode, and Wash just stared silently at the imposing figure of Caboose's new friend.

After a while, Tucker cleared his throat, "So..."

He jumped back as the robot turned towards him, "Never mind."

Wash then stepped forward.

"Caboose, tell me again" he said, ignoring the robot as it turned to him, "Where did you find this... robot?"

"His name is Freckles," Caboose cut in.

"That's a stupid name," Tucker scoffed then he gulped as Freckles turned back to him, "Stupid-cool, I mean! Great name, I mean, I wish that were my name. Yeah, Freckles is the best name ever that there ever was."

Rhode rolled his eyes, "Technically, it's a Mantis-Class military assault droid."

"Wait, why Mantis?"

"Well, you see those legs?" Rhode waved towards them, "They kinda resemble the legs of a praying mantis."

"No they don't."

"Then maybe it's the head shape?"

"Yeah, maybe it's because during the act of procreation, they rip off the head of their mate's body and devour it," Caboose put in, "It's like an act of sexual cannibalism."

"Ewww, what?!" Wash cried in disgust.

"Eh, I've dated worse," Tucker said with a dismissive shrug.

"Yeah, I call him Freckles because of the spots on his nose," Caboose pointed to the front of the robot which had four small red trianges spread out across it.

"Well crap, I actually have to give it to Caboose on this one," Tucker cried, "Robot definitely looks more like a 'Freckles' than a 'Mantis'."

"Fine," Wash sighed, "Where did you find... Freckles?"

Caboose thought it over, "Well, I was walking and I was sad and I missed Church-"

"This is the greatest story of our generation," Tucker muttered.

"Quiet," Wash hissed.

"And then I heard a noise-"

"Seriously, it's like I was there."

"Tucker!" Rhode scolded.

"Yeah, and then I saw this little guy under pieces of rock and spaceship and body parts, but I just moved them out of the way and then there he was."

Caboose patted the robot's leg and beamed up at it, "And now we're best friends forever, right Freckles?"

"AFFIRMATIVE, CABOOSE," Freckles replied.

"Great," Tucker groaned, "Boy meets dog, dog turns out to be a military-grade killing machine from a crashed spaceship."

"I'd watch that movie," Rhode said.

Wash frowned and turned to the blue Spartan, "Caboose... um, you know, a pet is a lot of responsibility."

"That is why I will water him and feed him every day," Caboose replied.

"Water and feed?' Tucker cried, "What the heck does this thing run on?"

"It runs on the power of our friendship and our love!"

Tucker slapped his hand over his visor, "This is so messed-up!"

"Didn't you give birth to a baby alien a few years back?" Rhode recalled.

"Whoa, let's not bring family into this," Tucker snapped.

Caboose raised his hand up and Freckles bent down so he could pet its metallic nose, "So, what fun adventures are we going to go on today, Freckles?"

"Ha, I'm not doing crap!" Tucker yelled, "We're getting rescued soon, remember?"

"Actually," Wash argued, "I think it would be smart if we continued with our training routine."

"What?!" Tucker gasped, "Why? There's no point."

"Training is an ongoing process, Tucker, and as the leader of this team, I want to make sure that we're ready for anything."

"This is stupid. Nothing has happened since we crashed here."

"Well, you never know if someone..." Wash glanced over at Freckles, "...or something will attack. So stop complaining and start jogging."

He then turned and set off up the ramp.

"And where are you going?" Rhode called out.

"I'm heading up to the ship," Wash replied, "Someone needs to do an inventory of our food supplies. I prefer it be someone who can count."

"I only screwed up twice," Caboose protested.

"You screwed up once."

"Yeah, I don't see your point."

Tucker looked at Caboose and Freckles nervously, "So, you're just gonna leave me and Rhode with them?"

"Five laps, gentlemen," Wash called out, running out of the base, "Tucker, make sure you count for Caboose."

Tucker watched him leave then he snorted, "Yeah, right."

At once, Freckles turned and raised its gun turret towards him, "DISREGARDING A DIRECT ORDER FROM A COMMANDING OFFICER IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH."

"What?" Tucker gasped, "Since when?"

"TARGET LOCKED."

"Rrrrr," Tucker sighed, running out of the base, "Okay, I'm going."

"Have fun with that," Rhode waved.

"AGENT RHODE ISLAND," Freckles stated.

"Oh crap," Rhode gulped, and took off, "Tucker, wait for me!"

Caboose then smiled broadly at the robot, "And who wants to go outside? Who wants to go outside?"

He jumped up and grabbed onto its leg, "Freckles, do you want to go outside? Outside! Who wants to go outside? Do I want to go outside? Why do I want to go outside? Let's all go outside!"

While he was rambling, Freckles marched outside the building.

Caboose looked round for a moment then he dropped down to the ground, "Oh my God, we're here! I'm really good at this game!"

 **XXX**

At that moment, on a small hill, Sarge watched through the scope of his sniper rifle as Caboose ran off after Tucker and Freckles marched along behind him, "Hmmm, those back-stabbers..."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Grif was lying on a large boulder, resting his head on his helmet and finishing off his third packet of Oreos, when Simmons came running up to him, carrying his battle rifle, "Hey, moron, would it kill you to take out the trash for once?"

Grif sat up, picking up his own rifle as he did, and turned to his team-mate, "Simmons, I've been thinking."

"I don't care!" Simmons snapped, "Take out the trash!"

"Why do we carry our guns?"

"What?" Simmons was taken aback.

"Our guns. Why do we carry them?"

"Because we're soldiers."

"Yeah, but we're not really fighting anybody, are we?"

"Well, yeah but, you never know when we can be attacked!"

"Attacked by who? The Blues?"

"Um..."

Grif put away his rifle and folded his arms, "We haven't fought a single enemy since arriving in this canyon, and yet here we are walking around in full body armor with a rifle in our hands like the whole galaxy is about to attack any second?"

Simmons raised an eyebrow, "What's your point?"

"My point is, why don't we ever just walk around without our guns?" Grif gave his teammate an expectant look, "Do it!"

"What?"

"Drop your gun!"

Simmons pulled his gun close to his chest, "No!"

"Why not?"

"I don't want to!"

"You don't want to?" Grif stepped closer until his nose was almost touching Simmons' visor, "Or you can't?"

"Um..." Simmons took a step back, "Um... I'm going back inside."

With that, he turned and ran off back to base.

Grif watched him go then chuckled to himself, "And thus Dexter Grif single-handedly avoids trash duty for a second day in a row."

He grabbed an Oreo and flicked it into the air, catching it in his mouth, "Hoo-rah!"

"Men, fall in, double time!" Sarge suddenly bellowed, "This is not a drill!"

Grif almost choked on his food in shock, "What the crap?"

"I knew there was a reason why we were armed!" Simmons yelled, running back out the base again.

With a sigh, Grif put his helmet back on, grabbed his gun and ran off after his team-mate. They found their leader waiting for them next to their Warthog.

"Sarge, what's wrong?" Simmons asked.

"What's wrong?" Sarge asked, "What's wrong?! How 'bout scheming, training, conniving, commiseratin', colluding, take your pick! Also, buildin' a giant robot. Those Blues are up to no good."

"And here I was thinking something important was about to happen," Grif sighed.

"But sir, didn't we build a robot?" Simmons asked.

At that moment, Lopez Dos.0 poked his head out from the base, "Ustedes hablan de mí?" (You guys talking about me?)

"Lopez Dos.0 doesn't count," Sarge argued, "He's about as useful as a box full of Grifs."

"Hey, I'm offended!" Grif yelled.

Lopez Dos.0 sighed and bowed his head, "Oh... Bien." (Oh... Okay.)

Sarge stared at his privates with a grim look on his face, "Men, I know we have considered the Blues to be our quote 'allies' unquote for some time now, but we have to look at the facts."

"What facts?" Simmons asked.

"Number one: they now possess a tank on legs that's capable of killing us all."

"Okay..."

"And number two is that we didn't have our own Number One first!" Sarge's eyes narrowed as he turned towards the Blue Base, "Clearly this is a conspiracy."

"So, what do you want us to do about it?" Grif asked.

Sarge turned back to his team, "I need you boys to conduct some reconnaissance. Secure intel., get deep in Charlie's bush, initiate Delta Force, Tango and Cash!"

Grif scratched the top of his helmet in confusion, "Are these orders or 80's action movies?"

"Find out exactly what those pesky Blues are up to."

Simmons gulped, "You mean go out there? Near that monster?"

"See? This is exactly the robot overlord crap I was talking about!" Grif threw his arms up and yelled into the heavens, "If only someone had listened!"

"It will be dangerous," Sarge admitted, "But I have confidence that at least one of you will survive... Simmons."

"Why aren't you coming?" Grif asked.

"We have a major breach in security!" Sarge replied, "One of the bags in my wall tore open and now there's sand all over the place."

"I can see how that might take priority," Grif muttered.

Sarge sighed and shook his head, "It is likely that we will never recover; there are just so many tiny crevices."

"Sarge, please," Simmons begged, "I don't wanna upset the Mantis!"

"What's a Mantis?" Grif asked puzzled.

"The giant robot!"

"Ah... Why is it called that?"

"I don't know, 'cause it's green? That's not the point!"

Sarge frowned, "Well, that's not a very good reason to call it a Mantis."

"Tal vez lo llaman Mantis ya que tiene un sistema de camuflaje avanzado que utiliza para atrapar enemigos," Lopez Dos.0 put in. (Perhaps they call it Mantis because it has an advanced camouflage system that it uses to ensnare enemies)

"Whatever, dum-dum," Sarge called out, "Can't you see we're talkin' strategy?"

"Stupid new Lopez," Grif added.

Simmons sighed and turned to Sarge, "Look, the Blues are no more dangerous than this idiot."

"Oye!" Lopez Dos.0 shouted, "Vamos, chicos. Ya basta." (Hey! Come on, guys. Cut it out.)

"But that robot could flatten us in an instant."

Sarge mulled it over, "You raise an excellent point, Simmons."

Simmons raised his eyebrows, "I do?"

"Yep," Sarge replied, "So you better not get spotted while you're out there."

Grif just sighed and set off into the canyon, "Let's just get this over with."

"But I'm telling you," Simmons yelled, running off after his team-mate, "The Blues are not up to anything!"

 **XXX**

At that moment, on board the shipwreck, Wash made his way down the passageway, walking right past a corridor marked with a sign reading FOOD REFRIGERATION/STORAGE.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, "Change of plans..."

 **XXX**

 **So... Want to change your mind there, Simmons? Till next time guys!**


	9. Chapter 8: The Blues are Bluer

**Chapter 8: The Grass is Greener, the Blues Are Bluer**

At the Blue Base, Tucker, Rhode, and Caboose were continuing their rigorous exercise while they waited for Washington to return.

Caboose did a few squats then turned to his robotic pet who was swinging its head back and forth.

"No, Freckles," he scolded, "Freckles, go down. Like this."

He did another squat then Freckles bent its knees a bit then straightened up again, "Yes, that's a good Freckles!"

Caboose turned to his teammates, "Tucker, Rhode, did you see that? Freckles did a squat!"

"Great," Tucker grunted between his squats, "Now teach him to fetch, or throw a stick off a cliff."

"Oh, he knows how to fetch," Caboose took out a tennis ball from his belt pocket and waved it in front of the Mantis, "Freckles! Freckles, get the ball!"

As he threw the ball out into the canyon, Freckles looked around and raised its gun turret, "ACQUIRING TARGET."

With that, the robot opened fire, taking out the ball moments before it hit the ground. Tucker and Rhode paused mid-squat and stared at the robot in stunned silence.

"Um, yeah," Caboose muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, "That was... that was just poor phrasing on my part, really... I mean, that was just... I think that was just grammatically... it was grammatically incorrect..."

 **XXX**

Nearby, Grif and Simmons slowly crept up to a large boulder and peeked out to observe the Blues.

"Alright, we made it," Grif hissed.

"Yeah," Simmons agreed, "So uh, what do we do now?"

"I guess we just... watch 'em," Grif replied with a shrug.

So they did. For several tense seconds, they watched as Tucker and Caboose did squats while Freckles observed them.

After a while, Grif gave a sigh then started clicking his tongue.

Simmons shook his head, "So... this is a waste of time, right? I mean, they're not actually plotting anything."

"I don't know, man," Grif muttered, "But watching three dudes exercise is making me feel really weird."

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Simmons sighed.

"Well, why don't you just ask them what they're up to?"

"What? And blow our cover?"

"What do we look like, SEAL Team 6? Who gives a crap, dude? You already said they're not up to anything."

"But what about the robot?" Simmons reminded him.

Grif glanced at Freckles and gulped, "Oh, yeah."

Simmons lowered his rifle and turned to Grif, "See, we need to strategise."

"Okay, fine," Grif conceded, "How do you want to do this?"

Simmons rubbed his chin as he tried to think, "Oh! We could do sort of like a good cop/bad cop thing."

"What if we act casual, like we're just shooting at stuff or something?"

"Maybe if we go in, guns blazing, we could intimidate them into telling us what we want."

"Wait..." Grif frowned, "What do we want?"

Simmons grimaced and scratched his helmet in thought, "I don't know."

"Hey! What are you doing?" Rhode's voice rang out.

Simmons and Grif jumped to their feet in alarm then turned to find Rhode standing next to the rock, hands on his side.

Quickly, Simmons thrust his hand onto Grif's chest-plate, "Alright Rhode, I want to hear you out but my partner's crazy! I can't hold him back!"

Rhode swapped a puzzled look with Grif who simply shrugged, "What?"

Simmons gave an awkward cough and leaned against the rock, "I mean, hey what's up, how's the weather? No, I mean..."

He fumbled for his rifle and pointed it out at the ex-Freelancer, unaware that he was holding it the wrong way, "Tell us what you know!"

Rhode sighed and moved Simmons' gun until it was facing the right way, making the maroon Spartan sigh, "I'm sorry."

"That was solid detective work, Officer Simmons," Grif muttered sarcastically.

"Yeeeaaahh..." Rhode rolled his eyes in agreement, "So, if you guys could just not watch us work out, that'd be great. It's a little weird."

"It's really weird," Grif agreed.

"Sarge ordered us to come spy on you," Simmons explained, putting his rifle away, "He thinks you're up to something."

"Dude, the only thing we've done today is exercise," Rhode groaned.

Grif sighed and shook his head in dismay, "You poor tortured soul."

"What are you training for?" Simmons asked puzzled.

"Heck if I know!" Rhode said, "Every day it's the same thing: Wake up, run drills, clean the base, run drills, maintain order, run drills... And thanks to Freckles, I have to do them now."

"Wash makes you clean the base?" Simmons breathed, his eyes agleam.

"And our equipment, and our vehicles," Rhode replied, "The guy's obsessed with rules and order."

"Urgh,"Grif grimaced, "Can you imagine having to deal with someone like that?"

"Rules and order..." Simmons began to drool at the thought.

"I know, right?" Rhode chuckled, "He's even got an organizational chart."

Simmons let out a gasp, at this but Grif just scoffed, "What a loser."

"Um..." Simmons gave a loud cough, "Yeah... Well uh, that all sounds very interesting, Rhode, but I think I need to see this for myself."

"What?" Rhode cried.

"What?" Grif echoed.

"Uh, you know, I just want to make sure his story checks out," Simmons replied nonchalantly, "Inspect the base, stick around for a few days..."

"Checks out?" Grif yelled, turning to look at Blue Base, "What are you gonna find that you can't already see? That thing is completely exposed, it's empty! It's clean, dude!"

Simmons just gave a blissful sigh, "Clean..."

Rhode raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you wanna stick around? Wash might make you run his obstacle course or something."

"Yeah, Sarge made us do that too," Grif groaned.

 **XXX**

 **Earlier...**

As Grif waited by the starting line, Sarge raised his pistol into the air, "On your mark... Get set..."

Grif shook his head, "This is such bull-OWWW!"

He suddenly yelped as Sarge shot him with his trusty shotgun, "Why?"

Sarge just chuckled and stopped his watch, "New record."

 **XXX**

 **Now...**

Grif rubbed his butt with a sigh, "Sometimes when I sneeze, buckshot comes out. I have to take off my helmet so I don't shatter the visor."

"Look, let me just hang out for a few days," Simmons insisted, "I'll be cool, I swear."

Grif narrowed his eyes at his teammate, "Don't lie into his face."

"Whatever, dude," Rhode conceded, heading back to Tucker, Caboose, and Freckles, "Just remember, I warned you."

Simmons watched him go then turned to his teammate, "Well, Grif, I guess this is goodbye."

"Wait," Grif cut in, scratching his helmet in confusion, "How long are you planning on being gone?"

"Til the job's done, I guess."

"And you're sure you'd rather be with the Blues and their giant killer robot instead of just coming back to base?"

Simmons just gave him a knowing look.

 **XXX**

 **Much earlier...**

Grif came up to Simmons, looking rather embarrassed, "Hey, I think I broke the urinal in the laundry room."

Simmons frowned, "We don't have a urinal in the laundry room."

Grif glanced over his shoulder and gulped, "Oh..."

To his credit, he made halfway across the canyon before Simmons ran after him, guns blazing.

 **XXX**

 **Now...**

"Yes, I'm sure," Simmons replied.

"Whatever, your funeral," Grif started back towards his base but then he stopped and turned around, "Just remember, if the robot ever corners you, just stick him with a magnet."

"Computers haven't been affected by magnets since the 20th century," Simmons argued.

"Which is exactly what they want you to think," With that, Grif turned and set off back across the canyon.

Simmons then stepped out from behind the rock, removed his helmet and took a deep breath before letting it out in a huge sigh as he stared at the Blue Base, "Finally, a place I can call home..."

At that very moment, Caboose took out another tennis ball and held it up to his robot, "Alright, Freckles, fetch!"

And he hurled the ball with all his strength.

Simmons quickly stepped aside as the ball fell out of the sky, landing right at his feet, "Hey Caboose, you dropped your ball!"

Then Freckles raised its turret again, "ACQUIRING TARGET."

With that, the robot opened fire again, nearly taking Simmons' leg off as he dived out of the way.

"AHHH!" he yelped, "WHAT DID I DO?!"

"Oh yeah, sorry," Caboose called out. "We're still working on that one."

 **XXX**

 **Gee Simmons, didn't know you hated your team _that_ much... Oh who am I kidding, I did. Till next time guys!**


	10. Chapter 9: House Split, Then Multiplied

**Chapter 9: A House Divided, Then Multiplied**

After a long walk across the canyon, Grif reached the Red Base and spotted Lopez Dos.0 hanging around under the slipspace engine, "Hey, where's Sarge?"

"¿Por qué mí a pregunta?" Lopez Dos.0 inquired puzzled, "Usted no habla Español." (Why are you asking me? You don't speak Spanish.)

At that moment, Sarge came out of the garage where they'd parked their Warthog, which now had red stripes spray-painted on its sides and bore a large slogan on its bonnet, RED GLORY.

"Private Grif," Sarge called out, "I see you've returned from your reconnaissance mission unscathed. That's disappointing, unacceptable."

Lopez Dos.0 shook his head in confusion, "Hombre... ¿Lo que es carne de esta tipo con usted?" (Man... What's this guy's beef with you?)

Sarge took off his helmet and ran a hand through his military crew-cut, "So, what information have you recovered?"

"Uh, besides the fact that the Blues aren't up to anything and that you're a paranoid old man bordering on senility?" Grif shrugged, "Not much, really."

"Uh-huh," Sarge muttered, "I'll take that into consideration, Private. Now how about we hear from our more competent soldier?"

He looked around for a moment then frowned, "Simmons?"

"He's with the Blues," Grif replied.

Sarge turned to him, his face stunned, "What? The Blues?"

"Yeah." Grif nodded, glancing over his shoulder, "He seemed really eager to stay at their base for some reason."

Sarge sighed then he bowed his head and turned towards the base, "Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time."

Grif looked puzzled, "Matter of time?"

Sarge nodded, "I knew this day would come."

"Really? You knew Simmons would eventually leave the Red Team?"

"Leave the Red Team?" Sarge turned back to stare at him, his normally squinted eyes now widened and unblinking, "Grif, are you even paying attention?"

"Uh, not really. I-"

"Think about it." Sarge turned towards the other side of the canyon, "First they build a giant robot. Then they capture my second-in-command. It's just as I had predicted! The enemy has finally shown its true colors, and that color is #0000FF!"

Grif swapped a puzzled look with Lopez Dos.0, "What?"

"BLUE!!! BLUE!!! It's Red vs. Blue all over again!!"

"No, Sarge," Grif cried, "They didn't capture-"

"Can you believe it?" Sarge yelled, "Posing as our allies, only to stab us in the back years after our conflict had seemingly ended! They've pulled off the most elaborate ruse in the history of simulated military combat!"

"I don't-"

"I mean, really! How far back did they start planning this thing?"

"You're not listening!"

"Like, did they know about the Freelancers from the beginning?"

"Sarge!"

"And what about Church?" Sarge was practically tearing his hair out at this point, "For years, they told us he was a ghost, but then he was an ancient artifact or something, and then there were aliens involved, I don't know! Sometimes, I wonder just how deep this rabbit hole goes! Did they mean to bring Rhode here?!"

"Stop!"

Sarge then turned to look into space, as if aware that someone was watching him right now, "It's almost like all this is some sort of sick game!"

 **(A/N: It's not a game here, but it sure is amusing.)**

"QUIET YOU!!!" Sarge yelled at the author.

Grif scratched the top of his helmet in bemusement, "This conversation is starting to get a little meta."

"You're right," Sarge replied, "Think he was in on it too?"

"I think you're jumping to conclusions," Grif said.

"I conclude you need to shut your mouth and move your feet!" Sarge bellowed, snatching up his helmet and his shotgun.

"What are you gonna do?" Grif asked, watching as Sarge ran back towards the garage.

Sarge turned round and smiled grimly before replacing his helmet, "We are goin' to do... the Reds' signature Blood Gulch maneuver!"

"Oh no," Grif groaned, slapping his hand over his visor.

Lopez Dos.0 turned to Grif with a smug grin, "Me hace feliz saber que está ignorados tanto como estoy por aquí." (It makes me happy knowing you're ignored just as much as I am around here.)

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Blue Base, Caboose had taken a break from his workout to teach his pet Mantis some more tricks, "Freckles, roll over!"

In response, Freckles rotated its upper body a full 360 degrees, "OBJECTIVE COMPLETE."

"That's cheating," Tucker scowled.

At that moment, Simmons ran up to the edge of the roof, "Hey, Tucker!"

"What?" Tucker yelled back.

"Do you have any idea when Wash is getting back?" Simmons called, "I have some suggestions regarding the upkeep of Blue Base."

"I don't know, and I don't care!"

"Well, I've got two words for you, buddy: chore wheel."

"And I got two words for you! How about back off!"

"Juuuust think about it!" Simmons shouted, retreating back into the base, "Wheel of chores."

Tucker groaned and shook his head in dismay, "I hate my life."

At that moment, Wash's voice rang out from the shipwreck, "TUCKER!!!"

Tucker cringed at the tone of that shout, "You know what, I take it back. I hate everyone else's life, wish I didn't have them."

He then grimaced in concern, "Oh God, am I turning into Church?"

Just then, Wash came running up to him, helmet under his arm and an angry look on his face, "Why aren't you running drills?"

Tucker turned to him, his eyes narrowed, "How do you know I didn't already finished them?"

"'Cause you're not on the ground, complaining about your irritated nipples."

"I'm telling you, my chest-piece rubs right up against it and not in the good way."

Wash grabbed Tucker by the chest-piece and pulled him up to his face, "Why do you refuse to take these things seriously?"

"Why can't you let us keep doing our thing?" Tucker retorted, pushing himself out of Wash's grip.

"I'm trying to make sure you're the best, that you're ready for anything!"

"Why?" Rhode said, finally having enough of Wash's antics, "Nothing will happen! We haven't seen a single life form since we got here!"

"Exactly!" Tucker pulled off his helmet and glared at Wash, "Blue Team was fine with being mediocre until you came along. What the crap are you worried about?"

"It's just a feeling," Wash glanced over his shoulder, "I can't explain it."

"Really? 'Cause I bet I can. You're a paranoid, ex-special ops guy who's used to being betrayed on a weekly basis. Not much of a riddle, Wash," Tucker then gave a cheeky grin, "Hey! Next, you wanna know the mystery of why Caboose isn't the Team treasurer?"

Wash turned back round and narrowed his eyes, "Oh, so we're going there?"

"Oh, I already went there," Tucker countered, "And I took pictures!"

"Ooooohhhh, burn!" Caboose winced.

"Agreed," Rhode chuckled.

Wash folded his arms and stepped closer, "Well, I can't say I'm surprised, Lavernius! You always have to get the last laugh! Mister Quick-witted, Mister Sarcastic... If you do as much training as you do mouthing off, you could probably bet Freckles at arm-wrestling!"

"Don't be stupid!" Tucker snapped, "Freckles doesn't have arms, he has guns!"

"And paws!" Caboose cut in, "Freckles, shake!"

At this, the Mantis raised one foot and stomped into the ground, causing a small tremor.

"Get it? He shakes!" Caboose cried, "It's so awesome!"

"Caboose!" Tucker, Rhode, and Wash yelled at the same time.

"Uh, yeah, we're still working on it," Caboose muttered.

At that moment, Simmons came running out of the base, "Oh, hey Wash, I didn't know you were back!"

Wash cast a look at him then turned back to Tucker, "What is... Why is he here?"

"I took the liberty of claiming the bunk closest to you," Simmons continued, "I hope you don't mind. Hey, Caboose, are you okay with sleeping on the floor?"

"I don't have time to deal with you right now," Wash growled, "Go away."

"Ha! Good one, Sir," Simmons chuckled, "Hey, by the way, is it okay if I start calling you Sir?"

Wash sighed and frowned at Tucker, "Why is he still here?"

"Beats me," Tucker admitted, "If I was him, I'd be as far away from this base as possible."

"You can call me champ if you want," Simmons added, "Or, you know... son."

"Just ignore him," Rhode groaned.

"Or Sir Junior."

"Look," Wash cut in, "As long as I'm leader of this Team, I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety whether you like it or not."

"We don't need you protecting us," Tucker yelled.

"I know!" Wash bellowed, "That's why I'm trying to help you!"

"Help us with what? Defending against attack? No one is going to attack us!"

"ATTAAAAAACCK!!!" Suddenly, the Warthog dubbed Red Glory came barreling over the ramp in the middle of the canyon and crashed right into the boulder in front of the base.

Tucker groaned and did a visor-palm, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"How did I know that would happen as soon as you said it?" Rhode asked.

Behind Red Glory's turret, Sarge glowered at his teammate, "Darn it, Grif. You forgot our theme music."

"Oh, right," Behind the wheel, Grif switched on the radio and loud ranchero music blared out of the jeep's speakers.

"Oh, forget it," Sarge groaned, "Give it a pass."

As Grif switched the radio off again, Freckles reared up and pointed its gun turret at the Reds, "ENEMY SOLDIERS DETECTED."

Caboose gulped nervously, "Uh... good Freckles? No murdering everyone?"

Sarge turned the turret towards the Blues, while Wash and Tucker raised their battle rifles and pointed them at the Reds. Rhode pulled out his sniper and took aim.

Grif glanced between them, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, "Uh, I would just like to take this opportunity to point out... that this was not my idea whatsoever, at all."

 **XXX**

As the two teams waited for the other to make the first move, none of them noticed a mysterious figure hidden in the shade of some trees on the edge of the canyon, spying on the activities through the scope of a sniper rifle...

 **XXX**

 **Ominous! Till next time guys!**


	11. Chapter 10: Long Live the King

**Chapter 10: Long Live the King**

Keeping a firm grip on his rifle, Tucker glared angrily at the Reds, "You have literally the worst timing."

"Stow it, thin mint!" Sarge snapped, jumping off Red Glory's turret, "We're no longer fraternizing with the enemy."

Tucker frowned, "'Thin mint'?"

"Now see, when he says 'we', imagine he's only referring to himself," Grif advised, "Do not group us together."

"My armor's aqua!" Tucker yelled, "I think."

Washington took a step closer, still holding his rifle, "What the heck are you two doing?"

"Uh, again, not 'two', just him," Grif repeated, "I can't stress this enough."

Sarge raised his shotgun and pointed it at Wash's face, "You made me believe that Reds and Blues can coexist, and we can work together as one people, and that we can all get together and be a little... purple."

"We can! We are!" Wash yelled, pushing the gun away, "Seriously, what the crap is this about?"

"You kidnapped one of my men!" Sarge shouted.

"Who, me?" Simmons cried out.

"He wasn't kidnapped, moron," Rhode retorted, "He came over here by himself! We can't get him to leave."

Sarge lowered his gun and turned to his pet private, "Is this true, Simmons?"

"It's not your fault, Sir," Simmons explained, "It's Grif's."

Grif was stunned, "What did I do?"

"You're disgusting, Grif!"

"Well, yeah. But I've always been like that. Sarge was the one that decided to take half the base for himself."

"Oh..." Simmons turned back to Sarge, "Then I guess this is your fault, Sir."

Sarge raised his gun again, this time pointing it at Simmons, "Then that makes you a traitor!"

"What?" Simmons gasped.

Quickly Freckles raised its gun turret, "THREAT LEVEL INCREASED."

"Uh, yeah, no reason for panic," Caboose gulped nervously, "Everything's fine. Might anyone have a rolled-up newspaper at the ready?"

Sarge ignored him.

"You weren't kidnapped!" he growled at Simmons, "You deliberately joined the enemy!"

"But if he wasn't kidnapped, that would mean we were never the enemy in the first place!" Tucker pointed out.

"Don't try to confuse me with your words, shamrock!" Sarge snapped.

"I'm aqua!"

"Tucker, calm down," Wash ordered.

"Me?" Tucker cried, "These guys roll up in a freaking assault jeep, and you choose to yell at me?"

"Look, tensions are high-"

"No kidding, Washington." Tucker turned and glowered at his leader, "I'm tired of you bossing us around."

"Now is not the time."

"You know, I disagree. We were having a talk when Tweedledee and Tweedle-freaking-idiot decided to interrupt, so let's finish this."

"There is nothing to finish!"

Grif scratched his helmet in confusion, "Are we interrupting some sort of lovers' quarrel right now?"

"I can't blame you for thinking that," Rhode told him.

Tucker ignored him as he stepped closer to Wash, his visor reflecting the ex-Freelancer's face, "You are the worst thing to happen to this team since Blue-boy over there decided to show up."

"I am a man!" Caboose cut in. "Blue man!"

"You take that back!" Simmons yelled, pointing accusingly at Tucker, "Wash is a great leader... I assume."

"Blasphemy!" Sarge bellowed.

Freckles raised its missile turret, "DEADLY THREAT AUTHORIZED."

"Seriously," Tucker scowled, "I would rather follow Caboose into battle than you."

"Oh, really?" Wash sneered sarcastically, "Then let's just make him the leader, see how much better off you are! You think so, Rhode?"

"Sure," Rhode said sarcastically, "That would be great."

Caboose perked up at this, "Well, I humbly accept your nomination and accept the position."

"Shut up!" Wash, Rhode, and Tucker yelled.

Suddenly, Freckles turned to the other Blues, "DO NOT TALK BACK TO YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER."

"Wash and I are having an argument," Tucker replied crossly, "I will be talking back to him. That's how arguments work, you toaster."

But Freckles shook its giant head, "WASHINGTON IS NOT THE COMMANDING OFFICER."

"What?" Tucker gasped.

"What?" Rhode sputtered.

"What?!" Wash yelled.

"IN A UNANIMOUS DECISION BY THE BLUE TEAM, CABOOSE HAS BEEN PROMOTED TO BLUE LEADER," Freckles explained, "CAPTAIN CABOOSE IS NOW YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER. DO NOT TALK BACK TO YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER."

Grif swallowed hard, "Oh, crap."

"Well, yep," Caboose beamed, puffing out his chest with pride, "This is gonna be a lot of fun."

"No, Caboose, you can't!" Wash ran towards Caboose, but was stopped by the Mantis pointing its turrets at him, "Look, Freckles, this is a misunderstanding!"

Simmons stared at the Blues in horror, "Caboose is team leader? Forget this."

"Oh, don't worry, Simmons," Caboose reassured, "As my first duty as leader in the position of the nomination, I say you can be on Blue Team... forever!"

"No thanks, I'm good," Simmons insisted, stepping towards the Reds' Warthog.

But then Freckles fired its gun turret at his feet, making him stop, "PRIVATE SIMMONS."

"Oh no," Simmons whimpered.

"DESERTING YOUR POST WILL DESIGNATE YOU AS AWOL. THIS DESIGNATION IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH."

"WHAT?!" Simmons screamed.

"Uh, hey, Sarge," Grif called out, "Now the Blues have kidnapped Simmons."

"Then it's war!" Sarge leapt behind the turret and turned it towards Freckles.

"Wait! Stop!" Wash cried out.

But Sarge was already powering up the gun, at the same time that Freckles was powering up its missile launcher, "Say hello to Robot Satan, you mechanical son of a-"

"BAIL!" Grif yelped, diving out of the driver's seat just as Freckles fired a missile at Red Glory.

KABOOOOOMMM! The jeep exploded in a massive ball of flame, throwing Sarge out onto the grass.

"Whoa!" Rhode gasped.

"Sarge!" Simmons screamed, running over to his leader.

"Freckles, bad!" Caboose scolded, "Bad! No!"

"PRIMARY THREAT ELIMINATED," Freckles declared.

Just then, Lopez Dos.0 came running toward them.

"¿Cuál es esa explosio- Mierda!" he gasped when he saw the burning wreck of Red Glory, "¿Qué has hecho?" (What was that explos- HOLY CRAP! WHAT DID YOU DO?)"

Simmons knelt by his leader and helped him to his feet, "Sarge, are you okay?"

"No, Simmons," Sarge grunted, clutching the wounds on his side, "I'm afraid I won't be okay... until I exact my revenge!"

"Seriously, I am not affiliated with this lunatic," Grif called out from behind a boulder, "He does not speak for me."

Despite his injuries, Sarge picked up his shotgun and charged towards Freckles with a fierce battle cry, "HYAAAAAH!"

Again, Freckles raised its turrets, "ENGAGING TARGET."

"Freckles, no!" Caboose shouted.

"Sarge, don't!" Rhode yelled, running towards the Red leader in attempt to stop him.

Suddenly, a loud shot rang out across the canyon, making everyone stop in their tracks, including Freckles amazingly. Puzzled, the Reds and Blues looked at each other to find who had fired their weapon, but nobody responded.

Then as one, they slowly turned towards the middle of the canyon... and there on the edge of the ramp, holding a pistol high in the air, was a Spartan-II wearing bright pink armor and a big grin on his face, "Man, you guys are really noisy."

For several seconds, no one dared to speak.

Then Grif ran out of his hiding place with a great cheer, "It's Donut! We're saved!"

With shouts of joy and ecstasy, the Reds, Wash, Rhode, and Tucker ran over to the pink private and grabbed in a big group hug.

"Aw, you must have really missed me!" Donut chuckled.

"Donut, thank God you're here!" Grif cried.

"We were just about ready to kill each other," Sarge added.

"Speak for yourself," Tucker scoffed.

Wash quickly recovered and looked around, "Where's the ship?"

Donut looked confused. "What ship?"

"The ship you came here on," Rhode said, "The rescue team."

"Ohhh, yeah, duh!" Donut cleared his throat, "Allow me to introduce: the rescue team!"

He took a step aside to reveal a second Spartan, this one wearing purple armor with a red cross on a white sticker on his chest, and waving nervously, "'Sup?"

"Doc?!" Simmons cried.

"Wait," Wash muttered, "What is this?"

"Donut told me you guys needed help," Doc explained.

"So I got the best help money could buy!" Donut finished proudly.

"You didn't pay me."

"And I didn't tip the pilot! That's formality."

"What pilot?" Sarge asked.

"The pilot that dropped us off, dummy."

"'Dropped you off'?" Tucker cried.

"As in, he's not here anymore?" Grif added.

"Exactly," Donut replied.

At that moment, Caboose ran up to the group, "'Sup?"

Wash sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "So you're telling me... that you heard the distress signal... grabbed Doc... hopped on a ship... and then TOLD THE SHIP TO LEAVE? AND THAT'S YOUR IDEA OF SENDING HELP?!"

"What? No!" Donut cried, while behind, Doc slowly began to back away, "I brought Lopez, too!"

With that, he reached behind his back and then brandished a brown Mark VI helmet with broken wires hanging out the bottom. Lopez Dos.0 went to look at the helmet and was stunned to see glowing green eyes staring back at him.

"Qué... Carajo." (What... the crap.)

Silently, the Reds and Blues all turned to look at each other, processing the information that Donut had told them.

Then Sarge spoke the words that everybody, even Caboose, was thinking, "KILL HIM!"

Doc turned to flee the scene but was quickly tackled by the Reds. The Blues meanwhile grabbed Donut and started dragging him towards the boulder.

"Someone get this maniac turquoise guy away from me!" Donut yelped.

"I'M AQUA!" Tucker screamed.

 **XXX**

At that moment, on a cliff overlooking the Blue Base, the figure observed through the sniper scope as the Reds and Blues began to beat up Donut and Doc, Sarge using the original Lopez as a bludgeon.

With a deep chuckle, he stepped out of the shade of the tree, revealing his grey-and-green armor, "Unfortunate..."

He then pressed a button on his right gauntlet and disappeared into thin air.

 **XXX**

 **And the plot thickens even more! Because apparently, this guy has cloaking. Till next time guys!**


	12. Chapter 11: Worst Laid Plans

**Chapter 11: Worst Laid Plans**

At the Blue Base, the atmosphere was tense as the Blues stood in the main hall, under the watch of the towering Freckles.

For a while, they were silent then Tucker sighed and turned to the Freelancers, "This is it. This is rock-bottom. You ever hit rock-bottom before, guys?"

Wash didn't reply, his face still contorted into an angry sneer, but Tucker wasn't sure if that was because their supposed 'rescue team', Donut and Doc, had completely screwed them over or because his rank had been usurped by an unfortunate misunderstanding.

"Yep," Rhode said, "But this is just as bad."

"Well, you have now, 'cause this is it," Tucker replied for Wash, "It can't get any lower."

Just then, he heard a loud sniff and Tucker turned to see Simmons next to him, his head bowed low and his cheeks streaked with Freon tears, "I wanna go home."

"Okay, well maybe I spoke too soon," Tucker muttered.

Just then, Freckles turned towards them, "ATTENTION. OFFICER ON DECK."

The Blues didn't react until Freckles raised its gun turret and then everyone quickly stood to attention, although Simmons still looked unhappy and Wash still had his sneer.

Then Caboose came over the ramp, "Yes. Yes. Oh thank you, yes, hello. You're welcome, yes, thank you."

He then turned to address the team and cleared his throat, "Hello!"

"CAPTAIN, ALL TEAM MEMBERS ARE ACCOUNTED FOR," Freckles informed him.

"Well, excellent news, Assistant Captain Freckles," Caboose replied.

"Oh, dear Lord," Tucker groaned, slapping his hand over his visor.

"Alright," Caboose called, "It looks like we have a new member today. Yes, give Simmons a big Blue Team hello, yes. Welcome to Blue Team, Simmons."

Caboose gave a round of applause, but Simmons wasn't reassured, "Can I leave?"

"It is good to have you on board today for the Blue Team," Caboose said, not really hearing Simmons.

"SIR, AWAITING MISSION BRIEFING," Freckles then said.

"Oh yes, right, yes right, I got it." Caboose coughed again, "Okay, um... Yes, the first order of business for the Blue Team is... um..."

He frowned and scratched the top of his helmet, "Um..."

A panicked look crossed his face then he turned to Washington.

"Wash?" he hissed, "Psst, hey Wash. Washington? Wash!"

"Yes, Caboose?" Wash sighed, breaking his sulky silence.

"What is the first order of business?"

"We're trying to get rescued."

"Oh yes! Rescued, yes, excellent." Caboose then turned to the others, "Does anyone have any suggestions?"

Rhode sighed again then raised his hand, "Well, we know the communications tower works, so we should continue in our efforts to make contact."

"Ah yes," Caboose replied, "Yes, excellent, yes."

"However, we should also try to boost the signal on the radio transmitter," Wash said, "We were barely able to keep a steady line of communication last time. Even if we make contact again, there's no guarantee that anyone would be able to understand us."

"Uh... Yes, um, right, yes..." Caboose cleared his throat and made himself look more superior, to little effect, "Yes, then we need to do that! Tucker, go fix the radio thing!"

"Me?" Tucker cried, "Why not Wash? He was the one that built it."

"Tucker, don't rook it," Caboose hissed through gritted teeth, "Okay listen, we're gonna keep Wash here for another job."

"Uh, but Caboose..." But before Wash could say any more, Freckles raised its gun turret at him and he stepped back with an angry growl.

"Yes," Caboose gulped, "I'm thinking that you know, uh Washington is mean and scary... Yes, he will be our lookout!"

Tucker swapped a puzzled look with Rhode, "Lookout?"

"Yes!" Caboose replied more confidently, "Wash, make sure you look out for Red guys... and anything that looks scary."

"There's a giant robot trying to kill me," Wash muttered.

"Yeah," Tucker agreed, "Why can Freckles be our lookout? Killing stuff is like his entire reason for existing."

"Well, um," Caboose replied, "Every great leader needs a great best friend, and Freckles, I think that you can be that best friend!"

Freckles turned to Caboose and nodded, "ACKNOWLEDGED."

Simmons frowned. "Um, do I need to do anything?"

"OH MY GOD, A RED!!!" Caboose screamed in terror, "OH MY- Oh no, sorry, sorry, that's my bad. Sorry, yeah, that's Simmons. Yes, sorry."

He cleared his throat, "Um, Simmons, you do what you... uh, normally do for the Reds, but instead for the Blues."

"Uh... Yes, sir," Simmons replied.

"Wait," Tucker cut in, "What is your job for the Reds?"

"What do you mean?" Simmons asked, "I just did it."

"And Rhode!" Caboose said, "You have been promoted to 'Backup Best Friend'!"

"I feel so honored," Rhode sighed with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Okay, everyone! Annnndd... Team!" Caboose then turned and left the room, "Alright, see you, bye."

Wash threw a quick glare at Tucker then set off down the ramp, "I hope you're happy."

"Hey, don't pin this on me!" Tucker snapped, running off in the other direction.

"Uh, I'll just stay here, I guess," Simmons called out.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Doc was finishing off his medical examination of Donut. The beating they'd received from the Reds and Blues had left them with some pretty bad injuries. Donut now had bruises on his whole body, a black eye and two cuts on his forehead, while Doc sported a big lump on his head and a sprained leg, although considering Sarge had used Lopez 1.0 as his weapon, he was lucky it didn't get broken. So after Doc had patched up Sarge's wounds, he'd set about on his own wounds before working on Donut.

Now Doc placed a plaster over the cut on Donut's forehead then gave him an icepack to hold over his shiner, "Alright, you're all patched up."

"I can't feel my toes," Donut groaned, carefully getting to his feet, "Is that normal?"

"Um, let's go with yes," Doc decided.

"Works for me," Donut agreed.

Doc then turned to glare at Grif, who'd been watching the procedure, "You know, the next time someone comes to help you, I wouldn't really recommend you beat the crap out of them."

"Well, the next time somebody comes to help us, I hope they actually bring us help," Grif countered.

"Hey! I take offense to that!"

"It's called an insult."

"Oh."

"So what the heck happened?" Donut demanded, holding the icepack over his shiner, "After you guys dropped me off at Valhalla, you guys were supposed to be going back to Blood Gulch."

"We did get back," Grif replied, "But then the UNSC caught up with us and we were nearly thrown in jail! But Wash was able to clear our names and they gave us a ship to head back home."

"So, how did you guys end up here?" Doc asked.

Grif gave a nervous grimace, "Well, funny story..."

 **XXX**

 _Flashback_

On board the ship, Grif had finished his latest meal and left the control room, dusting Oreo crumbs off his armor, when suddenly the ship gave a violent judder, almost knocking him to the floor. Then he heard a loud bang behind him and he ran back into the room to find a soldier staring at a sparking control panel in horror.

"Oh my God!" the soldier cried, picking up an empty drinks can. "Who spilled soda all over my instruments?"

"Oh my God!" Grif gasped in dismay. "I spilled my soda?"

At that moment, alarms blared across the ship and red lights flashed on.

 _End flashback just like before_

 **XXX**

Grif gulped nervously, "Somehow the ship crashed, but uh, no one seems to know how or why or when or-"

"Men!" Sarge called out, storming out of the base.

"I didn't do it!" Grif yelped in fright, "You can't prove that I did!"

"What are you doing up, Sarge?" Doc said, "You're supposed to be resting; those injuries you took were pretty bad."

"Ah corn-dogs, I don't have time for resting!" Sarge bellowed, "It's time we took action!"

"Oh, we're not gonna do anything violent, are we?" Doc groaned, "Remember, I'm a pacifist."

"Yeah, but think about it," Sarge replied, "You can't spell 'pacifist' without 'fist', which you need to throw a punch! That always leads to fighting, the precursor to a full-on battle, which is ultimately the first step on the inevitable road to war! Violence is unavoidable, Doc. Time to admit you've just got a natural-born pacifist lust for murder."

Doc groaned and did a visor-palm, "Why do I even bother?"

"Oh, come on, Doc!" Donut chuckled, slapping the medic on his shoulder, "Where's your sense of adventure? We're a bunch of strapping young men stranded in the wilderness. If that doesn't sound like a good time, I don't know what does!"

Grif narrowed his eyes, "I'm starting to remember why I don't like you."

"It's just like camping!" Donut cheered, "Who wants to help me pitch a tent?"

"Yep, there it is," Grif concluded.

"That's enough!" Sarge cried out, "Since landing in this godforsaken canyon, we've let Washington make all the decisions, and just look where that's gotten us. Our Warthog is destroyed, we're running low on food, and Simmons is being held prisoner!"

"Things have gotten hard," Grif agreed.

"It's high time we took matters into our own hands, Red hands!" Sarge decided, drawing out his shotgun, "The days of standing idly by while the Blues do interesting and convoluted things are over!"

"Alright!" Donut cheered, whipping out his battle rifle, "It's our time to shine! Can I get a 'heck yeah'?"

"Heck no."

"Close enough."

Sarge cast his eyes around his team, "What I'm about to propose to you gentlemen is in no way simple, smart or seemingly possible."

"Solid pep talk so far, Sarge," Grif replied sarcastically.

Sarge's face then became serious, "There's one thing in this canyon that's been the source of all our problems, so if we wanna get outta here alive, we're going to have to eliminate it! Boys... we've got to kill Freckles!"

Doc swapped a confused look with Donut, "Uh... we don't know who that is. We just got here."

"The robot," Sarge replied.

"You mean Lopez?" Donut asked.

At this, Lopez Dos.0 looked up then turned to the head of his predecessor, "Creo que estan hablando de nosotros!" (I think they're talking about us!)

"A menos que estén hablando de mi construir no me importa," the first Lopez grumbled. (Unless they are talking about building me a new body, I don't give a crap.)

"No, the giant robot that belongs to Caboose," Grif replied, "AKA, the thing that will freaking kill us if we get anywhere near it! So exactly how do you plan on eliminating it, Sarge?"

"Well," Sarge replied, rubbing his chin in thought, "If our ship was carrying something as big as Freckles, I figure it may have also been carrying something big enough to break him."

"We're going aboard the ship?" Grif asked.

"We'll move in tonight," Sarge decided, "Donut, you guard the base while we're gone."

"Awesome!" Donut cried.

Just then Wash came running up to them.

"Hey," he called out, "You guys haven't seen... anything suspicious around, have you?"

"Suspicious?" Sarge muttered, flicking his eyes around shiftily, "Why, whatever do you mean, Agent Washington?"

Wash sighed and shook his head. "Nothing, just... doing my job."

With that, he turned and set off back to his base.

Grif wiped his brow in mock relief, "Nice save, Sarge. Very convincing."

Sarge chuckled to himself, "Thank you."

XXX

Meanwhile, at a desert outpost many miles away, a large drop ship docked into the harbor and its pilot disembarked. He made his way down the deck, the sun gleaming off his silver armor, and approached the main counter.

Seeing a figure inside the shadowed room, he rapped on the window, "Hey, can I get some fuel out quick?"

"You got it," the figure replied in a deep voice.

"Hey thanks," The pilot then pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his sweat-soaked blonde hair then he turned back to the counter, "Hey uh, I'm not really from around here but uh, do you know about that crashed spaceship?"

The figure looked up at this, "Spaceship?"

"Yeah, I just dropped off a couple of guys who saw it in the middle of a canyon. It's big. Really big."

The figure shook his helmeted head, "No, I can't say I have."

"Really? Oh man..." The pilot turned towards his ship, "I mean, somebody should report that, right?"

"Well, that's up to you," the figure replied.

"Yeah, it was pretty bad," the pilot admitted, "You got a phone I could use?"

"Sure," The figure pointed over his shoulder, "Right over there."

The pilot turned and spotted a small booth standing some distance away, "Thanks."

He then set off towards the booth, but halfway there a shot rang out and he was suddenly thrown forward into the sand. With a gasp, he looked round and saw that his legs were bleeding quite badly. Desperately, he tried to crawl away but then he was rolled onto his back and pinned down... by a soldier in steel grey armor with sage green highlights, a shotgun in his hands and his face obscured by a visorless helmet.

"Just so you're aware," the soldier sneered in the same deep voice, pulling out a pistol, "No one's going to find your ship either."

With that, he fired a single shot and the pilot fell down dead.

With a chuckle, the soldier put away his pistol then switched on the com-link in his helmet, "Control, this is Locus. Objective complete. Returning to Crash Site Bravo..."

 **XXX**

 **What a douche this Locus guy is... Till next time guys!**


	13. Chapter 12: Finders Keepers

**Chapter 12: Finders Keepers**

As the sun began to set over the canyon, Tucker returned to the Blue Base, exhausted from his vain attempts to fix the comm tower, and made his way into the building where he found Simmons standing in the middle of the room.

"This blows," the teal Spartan groaned, "I don't know the first thing about fixing intergalactic radios."

"Uh huh," Simmons muttered, not really listening.

"Every movie that I've ever seen with a repairman on it always glosses over the actual repairing part. It's just 'Hey baby, I'm here to lay some pipe' and then bam, two scoops of raisin!"

"Uh huh."

"Dang it woman! If you let the man do his job, then maybe we wouldn't be in this mess."

Simmons then turned round and nodded behind him, "Hey Tucker, what the crap is this thing?"

Tucker looked up to see a large platform behind Simmons, glowing with strange energy, "It's a gravity lift. You step on it and it takes you upstairs."

"I know that," Simmons replied, "But what the crap is it doing here?"

Tucker shrugged, "It's glowing and going vrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvr."

Simmons frowned, "So let me get this straight. We're the survivors of a shipwreck, living off of the bare necessities, and in the middle of the room is this incredible feat of modern-day technology?"

"I don't know," Tucker admitted, "Wash found it on the ship and put it on the base. What's so weird about that?"

"It's like finding a car made of rocks, plastic and a bluetooth radio."

"Oh, we've got that too." Tucker pressed a button on his helmet and a soft jingle rang out, "Siri, play song dance theme."

"Did you mean bomb, Andy?" a soft female voice replied, "Calling bomb, Andy."

"Oh, piece of crap," Tucker groaned, switching it off again.

"How are you able to power all this? Simmons asked."

Tucker pointed to a long cable snaking out of the base, "We're hooked up to the ship."

"You mean you have a direct line to a limitless power supply?"

"Well, no," Tucker admitted, "We'll definitely run out of fuel eventually, just not any time soon. So who cares, take as much as you want."

Simmons smiled, "God bless the American way."

"What are ya gonna do?" Tucker asked puzzled.

"Just a side project!" And with that, Simmons ran onto the gravity lift and was rocketed up to the higher level.

Tucker shrugged and set off back towards the canyon but stopped when he saw Washington approaching Caboose and Freckles.

"Hey Caboose!" Wash called out as he arrived, "I've secured the perimeter. No bad guys to be found."

"Excellent work, Commander Washington," Caboose replied in a low commanding voice, "I admire your determination. Why, maybe some day, you could be the leader of Blue Team!"

"Yes," Wash muttered sarcastically, "Maybe some day."

"Now, I have a very important question for you, Washington."

"Okay."

"Um..." Caboose glanced over at his pet Mantis, "D'ya think Freckles would look silly in a hat? Possibly a sombrero?"

Wash frowned, "You want to dress your pet up in people clothes?"

"To boost the morale of our troops!"

With a nervous look, Wash glanced over his shoulder and an idea came to mind, "You know I just remembered I haven't checked for any bad guys on the ship."

"What?" Caboose cried out, "Washington, what are you even doing here? Uh, there could be bad guys plotting against us right now!"

"You're right!" Wash replied, saluting sharply, "Sorry boss, I'll take care of that right away."

And he turned round and ran off towards the shipwreck.

Caboose sighed and shook his head, "Ya know, some people are just not cut out for military life, Freckles. Now let's go make you that tiny hat. Maybe Rhode will love it!"

As Caboose and Freckles set off towards the base, Tucker gave a soft sigh, "Thanks, Wash. Really looking out for your team."

Just then his helmet gave a loud ring then a voice called out to him, "Hey, you've reached the voicemail of Andy the Bomb."

"Siri, hang up!" Tucker snapped.

 **XXX**

At that moment, on an outcropping overlooking the canyon, a lone figure observed the scene below, the fading light just catching off the orange trim of his steel grey armor.

He looked down at the Blue Team below him and gasped in amazement. "Holy crap, it's actually them."

Then he heard a clatter beside him and he turned round to see Locus standing on another distant ledge.

Suddenly Locus vanished into thin air and the orange soldier's face grew worried, "Oh no..."

 **XXX**

An hour later, night had fallen over the canyon, the stars twinkling in the dirty orange sky. Keeping out of sight from Freckles, Sarge, Grif and Doc had crept over to the shipwreck and were now wandering down the halls towards the storage area.

As they walked, Doc glanced around the ship and and gave an admiring whistle, "Ya know, for a shipwreck, this place actually looks pretty nice."

"You should see the other half," Grif replied.

"Is it bad?"

"We don't know. It landed somewhere else."

"Yeah, that's pretty bad." Doc paused for a moment as a thought struck his mind, "Hey, did you guys ever watch Lost?"

"SHUT UP!" Grif and Sarge yelled back.

Soon they entered a huge chamber with several compartments and side passages, with long walkways stretching overhead.

"Alright, men," Sarge said, "Fan out and see what you can find. Remember, we're hunting the most dangerous prey of them all."

"Man?" Doc asked.

"What? No. A giant robot."

"Oh yeah."

Sarge snorted at Doc's comment, "Man. Everything kills man. Man's way down on the list, right between koala and retarded koala."

"Yeah, man sucks," Grif agreed.

With that, Sarge set off towards one of the walkways while Grif and Doc entered a nearby side passage.

Grif entered one room and came across some small guns with a strange capsule stuck over each muzzle, "Hmmm."

He knelt down and grabbed a gun then he turned it towards the passage and pulled the trigger. As the capsule shot out, Grif braced himself for a huge explosion but none came.

"What the heck?" Grif lookedup and saw the capsule stuck to a wall, flashing red, "Huh."

He turned round and spotted Doc examining a sign on the wall. With a cheeky grin, he pulled the capsule off the wall and reloaded it into the gun.

"Hmmm," Doc glanced at the names on the sign, each one pointing to an area of weapons.

Then suddenly, something hard smacked into the side of his head, throwing him to the floor, "Hey!"

"Boosh!" Grif cheered, running up to the medic, "Headshot!"

"Grif!" Doc groaned, staggering to his feet, "What the heck, man?"

"Oh, don't be a whiner," Grif retorted.

Doc went over to a window and examined the capsule stuck to the side of his helmet, "What is this?"

"Beats me," Grif admitted, "Wanna try? There's a whole bunch in the corner."

"I'm not sure You know how I feel about firearms."

"Come on. They don't do anything. They just stick."

"Well, let me think about it..." Doc rubbed his chin in thought, "Okay!"

"Hey!" Sarge called out from an overhead walkway, "This ain't a tea party, numbskulls! Get ridda those toys and get back to work."

"Fine," Grif sighed, tossing the gun away.

"Aw, man," Doc groaned.

"And take that stupid thing off your head," Sarge added, walking off.

Doc sighed as he pulled off the capsule and tossed it over his shoulder, "I never get to do anything cool."

They set off down the passage to another room and moments after they left, the capsule exploded.

"You'd better not be breaking things down there!" Sarge yelled.

 **XXX**

In the next room, Doc found a computer console and quickly accessed the files on the screen, "Hmm. According to the ship's records, it was carrying a lot of standard issue weaponry. But, it has a buncha stuff here listed as 'experimental'."

"Oooh!" Grif breathed, glancing over Doc's shoulder, "That's military slang for really dangerous. Where's that stuff?"

"Well, it looks like most of it was on the other half of the ship."

"Boo!" Grif groaned.

"But there is one prototype that was kept here."

"Yes!" Grif cheered.

Doc typed a code on the keypad and a small panel slid open on a nearby wall, revealing several orange-edged cubes with spikes sticking out of the corners.

"What the crap are these?" Grif asked, picking up a cube.

"Looks likes some kind of grenade," Doc replied, "Or it could be a Rubik's cube, I dunno."

"Huh," Grif glanced around the room until he spotted some crates labeled DANGEROUS: HIGHLY FLAMMABLE then he flung the cube towards them.

"Aaaahh!" Doc yelped, "What are you doing?"

"Tryin' it out," Grif replied.

But as the cube hit the crates, instead of exploding, there was a flash of light so bright that Doc and Grif had to cover their visors and when the light faded, the crates were gone.

"Whoa!" Grif gasped, his eyes like saucers.

"YOU COULD'VE KILLED US!" Doc yelled.

"Did you see that?" Grif cried, pointing at the spot where the crates used to be.

"You can't just go around messing with experimental-" Grif ignored Doc as he grabbed another cube and threw it towards the other side, "Stop doing that!"

As the cube hit the floor, there was another blinding flash and the crates reappeared.

"Dude!" Grif breathed.

"What is wrong with you?" Doc snapped.

Grif grabbed another cube and stared at it in amazement, "These things are like... teleporter cubes!"

"Be careful!" Doc warned, snatching the cube away and placing it back with the others, "We don't know how they work."

"Whaddya mean? Throw it at a thing, thing disappears. Throw another one, thing reappears. I could keep an entire buffet in the palm of my hand!"

Doc's jaw dropped, "Really? That's what you're excited about?"

"Men!" Sarge's voice rang out from down the hall, "Upstairs, now!"

"Coming!" Doc called, running down the passage.

Grif looked back at the cubes, "Oh, I am taking these."

He picked up a cube and an idea came to mind...

 **XXX**

Minutes later, he caught up with Doc on the upper platform, where they found Sarge waiting for them.

"Sarge!" Doc called as they approached, "You'll never guess what we found!"

For a moment, Sarge didn't say anything then he turned to look at Doc, "Son, you could've found a laser-guided napalm shark, but I still wouldn't care."

"What?" Doc asked, puzzled.

"Ya know that feelin' you get when you see a pretty girl on the first day of school? You're not really sure what to do, but your instincts take over and you smile at her, and she smiles back?" Sarge let out an emotional sniff, "And suddenly the world's a brand new place, and your stomach's all full of twists and twirls?"

Doc swapped a confused look with Grif, "Um... Yeah?"

"Well, boys..." Sarge turned and pointed down the platform, "I got that feelin' now."

Grif and Doc followed Sarge's gaze and when they saw what he was pointing at, they gasped in amazement... for there, in a middle of a raised podium, a colossal robot three times bigger than Freckles towered over them.

"Holy crap..." Grif gulped.

"Except imagine that that pretty girl at school is armor-plated with a titanium Polly-alloy, and outfitted with fifty millimeter cannons and ammo for days!" Sarge concluded.

"She sounds pretty high maintenance," Doc said, puffing out his cheeks.

"She sounds like I need a safe-word to date her," Grif added.

"Oh yeah!" Sarge beamed.

"So how do we get it out of the ship?" Doc asked.

Grif pulled out one of the cubes he'd found, "Uh, teleportation cubes, anyone?"

"No!" Sarge cried, "A lady this fine has to be treated right, whiled up and whatnot. We'll take her apart and more her ourselves limb by limb, packed away in carrying cases if necessary."

Doc grimaced, "Uh I think your dating metaphor just took a turn into serial killer territory there, Sarge."

"Seriously?" Grif yelled, "I just found these awesome future cubes! It's destiny!"

Suddenly a loud metallic clatter rang out from the passages.

"Huh? What was that?" Sarge hissed, raising his shotgun.

Quickly, they ducked behind some crates as they heard footsteps coming towards them.

Doc carefully peeked out and spotted a green figure running down the walkway, "Rhode?"

"What the heck is he doing here?" Grif hissed.

"Doesn't matter," Sarge replied, getting to his feet, "Let's just dismember this beautiful lady and take her back to our lair. I mean base."

"Could you please stop referring to the robot as a woman?" Grif demanded, "It's really weird."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, unaware of the Reds' activities, Rhode entered a small storage area where an assortment of machine parts were strewn on a work bench. Taking off his helmet, he approached the bench, picked up some tools and set to work.

After a while, he looked at his work and rubbed his chin in thought, "Hmmm. Needs a conductor."

Turning from his work, he approached a crate and tried to pull it open, but it was locked tight.

"Stupid thing," he growled, "Just open!"

After a while, he pulled out his pistol and shot off the lock then he pulled the lid off and took out a piece of equipment, "There we go."

He then returned to the bench, pulled a welder's mask over his face, picked up a soldering iron and resumed his work, pausing only to look up at the ceiling and give a big sigh, "Never thought it'd come to this. Sorry, Caboose."

 **XXX**

 **Come on Rhode! You were just promoted to Backup Best Friend! Life couldn't be grander! Till next time guys!**


	14. Chapter 13: Plus 1 Follower

**Chapter 13: Plus 1 Follower**

The morning sun rose bright and strong over the canyon, tendrils of mist creeping out of the jungle and down the sides of the cliff. At the Blue Base, Tucker watched as Simmons finished his work on a computer screen built into a console.

Then Wash came up from behind them, helmet under his arm, "What is all this?"

"It's the future," Simmons replied.

"Where the heck have you been last night?" Tucker demanded.

"I've been doing everything I can to keep us alive," Wash replied.

"Oh really? Then where were you when Freckles tried to kill me for calling his tiny hat stupid?"

"I thought you didn't need me protecting you, Tucker."

"Hey guys," Simmons yelled over his shoulder, "I'm trying to revolutionize the world of inter-canyon communication. So if you could keep it down, that'd be great!"

Wash frowned, "What is he talking about?"

At this, Simmons stood up and turned to face the Blues, "I'm talking about... the Internet!"

With that, he pressed some buttons on the console then stepped aside. As Wash and Tucker watched, the screen lit up to reveal Simmons' name spelled out in contrasting colors of blue, red, yellow and green, over a box for typing.

"Welcome," a soft computer voice rang out.

Tucker's jaw dropped and his eyes were like saucers, "Oh... My... God! Everybody leave! Everybody leave right now! There's something I've gotta do."

As Tucker ran off down the passage, Rhode came in and Wash raised an eyebrow, "The internet?"

"Seriously," Tucker yelled, running back into the room with a box of tissues and some Vaseline, "You're gonna see some shit if you don't leave."

"Well, it's not really the internet," Simmons admitted, "The only two points of communication are Red and Blue Base."

"What?" Tucker cried, dropping the tissues and Vaseline, "Why would you lie to us like that?"

"You put one of these at Red Base too?" Rhode cried.

"Yeah." Simmons nodded, "I had to sneak past Freckles, but it was totally worth it."

"Why?"

"Behold!" Simmons typed on the console once more, and the screen changed to show a new homepage, this one titled Basebook next to a login box.

Wash raised his eyebrows, "Basebook?"

"Yeah," Simmons replied, "It's a site that lets you post pictures, videos and even text posts so that your friends always know what you're up to. It's revolutionary!"

"Revolutionary?" Rhode cried, "The first social media sites were created hundreds of years ago."

"And there are no friends in this canyon," Tucker added, "Only forced acquaintances."

"Well, yeah," Simmons agreed, "But those old sites just turned into amalgamations of attention whores. Nothing but teenagers who wanted to prove they were cool and old people who wanted to prove they were still relevant."

"So what's the point of Basebook?" Tucker asked.

Simmons shrugged, "Oh, you know, just wanna keep in touch with my friends on the Red Team while I'm your prisoner. Can't let them forget about ol' Simmons!"

He burst into nervous laughter which rapidly descended into pitiful sobs.

Wash swapped a worried look with Tucker, "Well... I'm glad you spent your time in captivity on something meaningful."

"So you made it," Tucker added, "What now?"

"Well, let's see what Sarge is up to." Simmons logged into Basebook and scanned his posts, "Uh huh... Hmm, hasn't set up his profile yet... That's cool. Umm, I'll just wait for an update. He has to have an update. Yeah, I'm sure it'll come eventually. Yeah, updates..."

He gave another crazed laugh.

Wash sighed and patted the maroon Spartan's shoulder, "You know, maybe you should go outside for a bit, Simmons. I'm sure Caboose wouldn't mind if you got some fresh air."

"No, no, it's cool," Simmons insisted, "I'll just save Sarge some time and... make a profile for him! Yeah, that'll be fun. And I'll do a post about it, just so he knows..."

Tucker shook his head in dismay, "Hope you like the new Blue Team, Wash. You really worked your magic."

He then turned and left to go work on the radio tower.

Wash looked up to see him leave then he spotted Caboose carefully adjusting a small sombrero on top of Freckles.

"Um, okay... There!" Caboose jumped down and examined his robot for a moment, "Okay, don't move! I gotta get my camera! Oh my God, this is gonna be so cute!"

"HOLDING POSITION," Freckles declared as Caboose ran off into the base.

"Hey, Wash," Simmons called out, breaking the ex-Freelancer's thoughts, "Could you take a picture and then tag me in it? 'Cause if I do it myself, I'll just look like one of those losers."

Wash sighed and bowed his head, realizing how badly things were going wrong for his team.

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Donut had been busy keeping the base spic and span while the others were out, waxing the floors, dusting the passageways and even polishing Lopez Dos.0's armor. He had just finished cleaning the dishes and was about to put them into the cupboard when there was a loud crash from outside.

Quickly Donut snatched up his magnum and ran outside to confront the intruders, "Alright, spread 'em!"

"Hey, Donut," Doc called out.

"Oh it's you guys!" Donut cried, stowing his gun away, "What took you so long?"

"It's not exactly easy moving several tons of robot in a timely manner," Doc nodded behind him and Donut saw Sarge and Grif gathered around a pile of machinery, "I think Grif even dropped some pieces along the way."

"There's a difference between dropping and abandoning," Grif cut in.

"What? Droppin' pieces?" Sarge bellowed, "Grif, if I find a single screw missing from this death machine, I'll beat the living pulp out of you and drink the remainin' orange juice! 'Cause I like my dead men pulp-free, and with extra calcium if available."

Grif gulped nervously, "What if I lost multiple screws? Or several feet of armor plating?"

"Giant robot battle, here we come!" Donut cheered, "This is gonna be AWESOME! Fight fire with fire! Good idea, Sarge."

"I still say we should trap Freckles in a future cube!" Grif yelled, pulling out a glowing orange cube.

"You actually brought one of those with you?" Doc cried.

"Technically, yes." Grif tossed the cube onto the floor and in a flash of light so bright that Donut had to shield his eyes, a large stack of cubes appeared, "But actually no."

Donut frowned, "It's a cube that makes more cubes."

"No, they teleport stuff. Watch this," Grif grabbed a cube and then looked around until he spotted a construction cone, "Screw you, cone! What'd you ever do for me?"

He flung the cube out and with a flash of light, the cone disappeared.

"Whoa!" Donut gasped.

"Nah, I'm just kidding, cone," Grif chuckled, "You can come back."

He flung another cube to his right and in another flash, the cone reappeared.

"They're like Poké Balls!" Donut squealed.

"No, these are cool," Grif retorted, "Do not ruin them for me."

"Or maybe they send stuff to the Phantom Zone, like in that bad Superman movie."

"You mean Superman 2 or Man of Steel?" Doc asked.

"No, the eleventh remake." Donut then put on his deep announcer's voice, "Superman Origins 3: Revelations!"

"Oh yeah," Doc recalled, "That was awesome."

 **(A/N: Hollywood is going to make that someday. I'm willing to bet money on it.)**

"Sarge, look," Grif insisted, "Let's just send Donut to Blue Base with one of the cubes. He throws it at Freckles, Freckles gets zapped then we just throw a cube in a volcano or something."

"Why do I have to do it?" Donut asked.

"In case it doesn't work," Grif replied, "I wanna be alive."

"Makes sense."

"But we still don't even know how the teleporter cubes work," Doc protested, "What if they're extremely radioactive? Or what if they only work on inanimate objects?"

"Robots are objects," Grif argued.

"Hey, you're gonna hurt some feelings over here," Sarge snapped, "Don't ever talk like that in front of my robot."

"(I heard the word robot,)" Lopez Dos.0 called out, running up to them, (Did you call me?)"

"Nobody's talking to you, robot," Sarge sighed.

"Well, you should at least run some tests first," Doc said.

"But tests are hard!" Grif groaned like a child.

"Well, if it keeps you morons away from me so I can work," Sarge decided, "I say go for it."

"Seriously?"

"You can either test the cubes or you can test this thing's primary defense systems."

"What do I have to do for that?"

"Just stand still and wait for the sweet embrace of death."

Grif gulped then he grabbed the cubes and ran off round the base, "Okay, yeah, I'm leaving now."

"Ooh, I gonna update my Basebook page about this," Donut cried.

"What's that?" Doc asked.

"Oh, Doc. You're. Gonna. Love it!" Donut hissed excitedly, "You should see this picture Caboose just uploaded. It's hilarious!"

 **XXX**

Dos.0 watched them leave then he rejoined the original Lopez on top of some crates and sat down next to him.

"(Another robot,)" Lopez sighed, "(How original.)"

"Psst!"

Dos.0 jumped at that hiss, "(Did you hear something?)"

"Yeah," the low voice called out from nearby, "Hey, over here. Brown guy."

Dos.0 turned round and spotted a dark figure hiding in a crevice, "(Holy crap, who is that?)"

"(Who is what?)" Lopez asked, "(I can't see.)"

The figure slowly stepped forward, the sunlight picking out the orange stripes on his grey armor, "Okay, don't come over here or anything, just listen. You and your friends are in a lot of trouble."

"(What?)" Dos.0 gasped.

"(Seriously, what the heck is going on?)" Lopez yelled, trying to look around.

"I'm gonna get you guys out of here, okay?" the figure reassured, "But you need to sit tight a little while longer. I'm not the only one with their eyes on you."

"(What does that mean?)" Dos.0 asked puzzled.

The figure glanced up towards the cliff for a moment, "I gotta go. Look, I know you people can fend for yourselves. Just... be careful."

"(Be careful?)" Dos.0 asked, turning toward the cliff, "(Why? Who is watching us?)"

"(TURN. ME. AROUND!)" Lopez 1 snapped.

Dos.0 turned back to the crevice, but the figure was nowhere to be seen, "(He's gone!)"

"(Gone?)" Lopez asked.

"(Vanished!)"

"(Was he Batman?)"

"(Lopez, we have to tell somebody!)"

Lopez rolled his eyes. "(You can't be serious.)"

Dos.0 turned towards the Red Base, "(Sarge! Sarge!)"

"Hmm?" Sarge looked up from his work and turned round, "You talkin' to me?"

"(A man was just here!)" Dos.0 called out, "(He said we were in danger. He said we have to-)"

"Dos.0, quit your yammerin' so I can build your replacement," Sarge cut in crossly, "Uh I mean your... building your... Uh, yeah it's pretty much your replacement."

Dos.0 tried to yell out again but his predecessor cut in, "(Trust me, kid. Don't even bother. You could draw that man a detailed info-graphic describing the situation and he'd still find some way to screw things up.)"

"(But we could be rescued,)" Dos.0 insisted.

"(I can either be a head in this canyon, or I could be a head in another canyon. At this point, I really don't care.)"

"(But what about our creators?)"

"(They're the worst.)"

Dos.0 looked baffled, "(What do you mean?)"

Lopez gave a mechanical sigh, "(You're going to want to sit down for this story. It's about 20 hours long and I only enjoy telling it in five minute intervals.)"

 **XXX**

 **This season just loves to test the fourth wall, doesn't it? Till next time guys!**


	15. Chapter 14: Reconcilation

**Chapter 14: Reconcilation**

As Donut led Doc through the base, he quickly explained the new installation to the internet that Simmons had made as well as the creation of Basebook.

By the time he'd finished, they had reached the main computer room and Donut indicated the screen, "Pretty neat, huh?"

Doc examined Donut's profile which now showed a picture of them both hanging out at Valhalla, "So who uses this?"

"Mainly just Simmons and Caboose. Oh wait! Looks like Sarge has a profile now," Donut grabbed the mouse and clicked on the page, "Like!"

"And you just... talk about yourself?"

"You can post pictures and stuff too." Donut pointed with the mouse icon at a progress bar over a slowly loading photo, "I've been downloading this picture of Freckles for a while."

As he spoke, the bar clicked up to 16% completion.

"How long has that been going for?" Doc asked.

"Uh, just a few hours."

Doc raised his eyebrows, "You spent hours of our limited energy just downloading a single picture?"

"It is a very high quality picture," Donut insisted as the bar clicked up 17%.

Doc thought about it then he shrugged, "Well, you can't argue with that. So is that all you did while you were out last night?"

"Nope! I've been cleaning the base from top to bottom; it was the least I can do to make it more presentable. I did the dishes, swept sand off the floor..."

"Wow. Did you clean Grif's room?"

Donut frowned, "Grif has a room?"

"Well, he and Simmons share that side of the base," Doc replied, "But Grif's stuff overflowed onto the roof."

"Ooh, let me take a peek!" Donut cried, running out of the room.

Doc then sat down on the screen and examined the post, "Oh my God! If this post gets over ten thousand likes, Basebook will pay for a rescue team to save us!"

At the same time, Donut reached Grif's room and opened the door... only to discover a jam-packed pile of trash inside.

"AAAGGGH!" he screamed, seconds before the trash cascaded out of the room right on top of him.

"I know!" Doc shouted from the computer room, "It's too good to be true!"

 **XXX**

Outside, Grif was still testing out the teleportation cubes. So far, he'd teleported three crates to the top of the base, moved the wrecked Warthog into the garage and managed to get two boxes of Oreos out of the kitchen without Sarge noticing.

He was just taking aim at a large boulder, when... "Dexter Grif!"

Grif almost dropped the cube in fright, "Huh?"

He turned round to see Donut come storming out of the base, his pink armor covered in coffee stains and empty Oreo packets, "Whoa, what happened to you?"

"I can't stand living in this base the way you've been treating it!" Donut snapped, dusting the packets off his armor, "The layout is all wrong, the color palette is atrocious, and the garden doesn't even have flowers in it, just vegetables. Also, I think someone's trying to plant candy corn at some point!"

"Hmm," Grif murmured, his eyes suddenly shifty, "I, uh, wonder who did that?"

"How's the testing going?" Doc called, coming out of the base behind Donut.

"Well, Doc," Grif replied, holding up the cube, "After countless experiments, I've determined the teleportation cubes are still awesome! All other data has been inconclusive."

Doc gave a nervous grimace, "Grif, I really think we shouldn't be messing with these. They could be dangerous! We can't be throwing them all willy-nilly!"

Before Grif could say anything to the contrary, Donut snatched the cube out of his hand, "Give me that!"

"Hey!" Grif yelled.

Donut ignored him as he threw the cube onto the roof of the base where the mountain of Grif's rubbish poked out. As the cube hit the rubbish, there was a flash of light and the rubbish disappeared.

"My stuff!" Grif gasped.

Donut then grabbed another cube, turned away from the base and hurled it with all his strength right across the canyon.

Doc watched the cube fly off until it was out of sight, "Nice arm."

"There," Donut declared, dusting off his hands, "If you can't be responsible enough to clean your room, you'll just have to say goodbye to everything that was in it."

"Aww man," Grif groaned.

 **XXX**

At that moment, at the Blue Base, Simmons was making his umpteenth check on his Basebook page, "Hey, someone liked my post! Things are finally looking up for Private Simmons!"

Just then, a small cube landed right behind him with a clutter and Simmons turned round with a frown, "What the...?"

A split-second later, there was a flash of light and the next thing he knew, Simmons found himself buried in a huge mountain of filth and clutter, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 **XXX**

Out in the canyon, Rhode heard the shout and turned round in confusion.

Then he shrugged and made his way over to the tower, where he found Tucker bashing his rifle into the circuit breaker, "What are you doing?"

"Fixing, the, radio," Tucker grunted between pounds.

"By beating it with the butt of your rifle?"

"It worked, for Wash."

"But that was-"

"Ya know what? How 'bout you come over here and do it yourself?"

"Try connecting the antenna port to the amp."

Tucker paused mid-swing and turned round, "What?"

"If you transfer too much voltage, that will just fry the radio," Rhode explained, "But if you transfer the power through an amp-"

"All I hear are words that would get me beat up in high school."

"Tucker, I'm being serious. If you'd just listen to me and Wash, you could do this."

"I don't want to do this!" Tucker snapped, tossing his rifle aside, "Did you ever think of that? All I wanna do is stand around and talk to my friend. But he's gone now and all I have is you and Wash!"

"What?" Rhode breathed.

"It's bullcrap!" Tucker growled, folding his arms and turning away in a huff.

Rhode sighed then he stepped up to Tucker and turned to look at the sky.

After a while, he spoke, "Did you know me and Wash used to be two of the worst Freelancers in my squad? There was Agent York, our security specialist, Agent North the sharpshooter, Carolina was an expert in martial arts and Tex was... Well, you know, Tex."

"Cool story, bro," Tucker snorted.

"Wash was known for getting a grappling hook stuck to his balls. I was known for being an absolute geek along with two of my teammates."

"Okay," Tucker sighed, turning to look at him, "Where are you going with this?"

Rhode turned to face him, "Church was your leader for a long time. You knew each other inside out."

"Dude, don't phrase it like that!"

"Oh right, sorry," Rhode realized, "Anyway, I'm still new to all this. I've never really had to lead anybody before. But when Church and Carolina disappeared, me and Wash had no choice. We had to try."

"Well, that's where you went wrong," Tucker cut in, "You tried too hard, man! I mean, Church wasn't the best leader ever, but he never made us run laps or do push-ups or anything. He just took the blame when stuff went wrong. That's it."

Rhode smiled grimly then turned towards the ruined ship, "Well, we're shipwrecked, low on food and we have to do whatever Caboose says or we'll be killed by a robot."

"Looks like you two really messed up," Tucker chuckled.

"Yeah," Rhode admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, "Kinda looks that way."

Tucker nodded slowly, "Well... You two weren't really our leaders when the ship crashed. So I guess you don't have to take the blame for that."

Rhode suddenly gave a nervous grimace.

 **XXX**

 _Flashback_

On board the ship, Wash and Rhode left Simmons to gloss around the storage level while they wandered round the generator room.

As they glanced up at the intricate machines, both of their feet suddenly caught on something and they stumbled to the floor, "Whoops!"

As they hit the floor, the lights overhead suddenly dimmed. Rhode looked round and saw a cable lying at his feet then he spotted two engineers running over to him, looking quite worried.

"Sorry, our bad!" he called, getting to his feet, "We knocked a cable out of the wall. I hope that wasn't important."

At that moment, alarms began to blare around the ship and red lights flashed on.

 _End flashback_

 **XXX**

Rhode gave a nervous chuckle, "Uh, I'll take some of the blame."

"Whatever," Tucker replied.

Rhode then turned towards the tower, "Now are you gonna fix this thing or not?"

Tucker stepped back in front of the radio, "Well, earlier the radio was working but the signal wasn't strong enough. Now it's just not working."

"Sounds like you really messed up,"

"Don't be a jerk."

Rhode shrugged then he placed a hand on his teal teammate's shoulder, "You're a capable soldier, Tucker, at least compared to your usual acquaintances. You just have to... try. Wash would say the same. Trust me."

Tucker sighed and glanced over the radio, "Oh."

"What?"

Tucker flicked a switch on the radio and a hiss of static came out, "It was just turned off."

"Attention, Blue Team! Team, team, team..."

Rhode turned round to see Caboose coming towards the tower, followed as always by Freckles, "Um, yes, Captain?"

"Yeah, um," Caboose replied, "I know we all said we wanted to fix the radio, and that it's very important to fix the uh, the radio and the tower and all that, it's very important..."

"We'll probably die if it's not repaired."

"Right, um... But! I need you guys to go back to Blue Base and um... clean up."

Tucker frowned, "Clean up what?"

"Garbage and robot parts and gross stuff, you know," Caboose replied, "Yeah, Simmons actually won't stop rocking back and forth in the corner and it's kinda... freakin' me out."

Rhode raised an eyebrow, "You do mean Blue Base, right?"

"DO NOT QUESTION YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER," Freckles boomed, raising its missile turret.

"Okay, okay," Rhode called out quickly, "We'll be there in a minute."

With a nod, Caboose then climbed up his pet's leg and jumped into the cockpit, "Assistant Captain Best Friend Freckles, initiate piggyback sequence!"

"ACKNOWLEDGED," Freckles replied, stomping off back to Blue Base.

Tucker sighed and bowed his head, "You know we're all gonna die because of him, right?"

Rhode nodded, "Tucker, I need you to head back to base and do what you can. I have to go back to the ship."

"You're leaving me again?!" Tucker cried, "What the crap do you need to go on the ship for?"

"I found something," Rhode replied, jumping off the tower, "I just need you to buy me some time."

"Then what are you gonna do?"

Rhode sighed as he set off back to the ship, "Hopefully, I'm gonna put a stop to all this..."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, several miles away, the soldier known only as Locus marched across the deserted plains towards his goal. His journey had taken him all night and most of the day, but he had to be quick. Already he'd spotted members of the accursed New Republic at Crash Site Bravo, some of which he'd dealt with. But one of them had managed to escape, and if he didn't make it back in time, his targets would be gone...

At last, he spotted his destination, a huge series of ruins built by the edge of a cliff. As he made his way through them, several soldiers in white armor spotted him and gave him sharp salutes.

Soon he approached a small cluster of soldiers gathered under a tree.

"You four, come with me," he ordered, "We're going hunting."

 **XXX**

 **That don't look good. Till next time guys!**


	16. Chapter 15: Neighborhood Watch

**Chapter 15: Neighborhood Watch**

At the Red Base, Lopez finished his tale and Lopez Dos.0's jaw dropped in shock, "(A scarecrow?)"

"(Yep,)" Lopez replied.

"(They just left you hanging out there with all the vegetables?)"

"(It takes about 90 days to grow corn.)"

Dos.0 shook his head in dismay, "(That's terrible!)"

"(It was not the best,)" Lopez agreed.

"Hey Lopezes," Sarge called out from behind his half-finished war machine, "Come over here and gimme a hand. I keep havin' to get on my knees to work on this, but I figure it'd be easier if you held it at chest-level instead."

"(Yes, sir!)" Dos.0 replied loyally.

"(Wait!)" Lopez cried.

"(What?)"

"(There is one thing about these people I do like.)"

With a chuckle, Lopez turned his eyes to his creator, "(Hey, Sarge! Why don't you want to get on your knees? Afraid it will bring back some repressed memories?)"

Dos.0 cringed slightly, expecting Sarge to let loose with an angry retort or shoot his shotgun at them.

But instead Sarge just gave out a hearty laugh, "Oh, Lopez, you ol' kidder, you. Now come on, time's wastin'."

Lopez winked at his successor, who gave an nervous gulp, "(Hey, Sarge... You smell!)"

"Oh, don't tell me he's got you in on it too," Sarge chortled, "Ha ha, Lopez, you are rambunctious!"

Dos.0 was stunned but Lopez just sniggered, "(Sometimes he makes up entire conversations.)"

He then shouted, "(You suck!)"

"It is a lovely day, isn't it?" Sarge replied.

"(And you aren't that smart,)" Dos.0 added.

"Thank you for noticing," Sarge called back, "I have been hitting the gym."

"(Your mother's so fat she uses a Richter scale!)" Lopez shouted.

"(And she's a cow!)" Dos.0 added.

"Ha ha ha, you two are like a couple of three stooges," Sarge laughed, slapping his knee, "So, whenever you're done goofing off, come help me with this. I just need to make a few more adjustments."

At this, Dos.0 couldn't hold it in and he burst out laughing.

Lopez smiled approvingly, "(Stick with me, kid. And you're going to be just fine.)"

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, Rhode left the ship and made his way towards the Blue Base, carrying his helmet under one arm and a large object wrapped in a cloth under the other. Soon he spotted the Base and paused for a moment. He could see Tucker, Wash, and Simmons hard at work on the balcony, throwing rubbish bags out into a pile in the corner.

After a while, Rhode put on his helmet, took a deep breath and flexed his shoulders, "Well, here goes nothing."

With that, he set off towards the base.

Suddenly the ground began to shake and a deep booming voice boomed out from the base's lower level, "AGENT RHODE ISLAND!"

Rhode whirled round to see the imposing figure of Freckles come stomping out of the base towards him, "Oh, Freckles, I didn't see you there. Man, for a behemoth, you hide really well."

Freckles stopped outside and raised its gun turret up, "YOU HAVE FAILED TO UPHOLD YOUR DUTIES TO CAPTAIN CABOOSE, AGENT RHODE ISLAND."

"But I was just on my way up. Ready to clean the base!"

"YOU LACK DILIGENCE, AGENT RHODE ISLAND."

Rhode's face fell, "What?"

Freckles took a step forward and raised its missile turret, "YOU QUESTION AUTHORITY, AGENT RHODE ISLAND."

With a nervous gulp, Rhode started to back away from the Mantis, "Uh, Caboose? Could you come out here?"

"YOU MUST BE ELIMINATED, AGENT RHODE ISLAND," Freckles' cannons began to glow, building up power to launch its missiles.

"Caboose!" Rhode screamed.

"Hello!" Caboose called out, running out of the base.

"Your pet is trying to kill me!"

"What? That does not sound like- FRECKLES!" Caboose gasped when he saw his pet, "Freckles, what are you doing?"

At the sound of Caboose's voice, Freckles lowered its turrets and turned towards him, "AGENT RHODE ISLAND HAS FAILED TO MEET THE MINIMUN REQUIREMENT OF BLUE TEAM SERVICE AND IS NO LONGER FIT FOR DUTY. HE MUST BE ELIMINATED."

"See?" Caboose said, turning to Rhode, "He's just doing what he just said."

"Caboose, please come here," Rhode yelled, stepping away from Freckles' range, "I need to talk to you!"

"Oh, probably wants to talk about what an awesome leader I am," Caboose stepped between Freckles' legs and joined his former leader, "Hello, what seems to be the problem, Agent Rhode?"

Rhode stared at Caboose for a moment then he looked up to see Tucker, Wash, and Simmons watching them from the balcony.

Then he sighed and looked back to Caboose, "I'm... I'm sorry, Caboose."

Caboose was taken back by this, "What?"

"I'm sorry your best friend left you without saying goodbye," Rhode replied, "Maybe he thought you would try and stop him, or maybe it was too hard for him to tell you but, no matter the reason, he's still gone. He left you..."

He glanced up at Tucker again, "Both of you."

He bowed his head and shook it slowly. "I don't really do emotional things, and I hoped you might have been able to get over this by yourselves. So I left you alone, and instead of coming to terms with what you lost, you replaced it with, well, the first thing you found. But I of all people should know that that's not easy. I should have been there for you, Caboose, because that's what friends do for each other."

"CAPTAIN CABOOSE IS NOT YOUR FRIEND," Freckles retorted, "HE IS YOUR COMMANDING-"

"Uh, no," Caboose cut in with a sniff, "We're all friends here, Freckles. It's, you know, okay."

"That's right," Rhode agreed, with a sad smile, "And as your friend, I want to say that I'm sorry. I know it's not much but, I made you this."

He picked up the object and pulled off the cloth, revealing a blue Mark V helmet.

"Oh my God!" Caboose gasped in delight, "My old helmet!"

As Caboose snatched up the helmet, Freckles tilted its head to one side, "CAPTAIN CABOOSE, YOU SHOULD RETURN TO YOUR DUTIES."

Rhode sighed at this then he placed his hand on his teammate's shoulder, "Listen, I know you really like Freckles, Caboose. But you have to understand that he's very dangerous. He's not a puppy anymore. Or a kitten? Or... Point is, he's really big."

"Yeah," Caboose admitted, pulling off his Mark VI helmet, "He blew up a car."

"I remember that."

Caboose sighed and turned to pat his monstrous pet's leg, "Uh... Hey, Freckles? I just want you to know... that you're one of the best machines I know, and that is saying something because I have been friends with a lot of machines. But... I think you should listen to Agent Washington and Rhode from now on."

Freckles tilted its head down to him, "ARE YOU SURE?"

"Yeah," Caboose nodded, "They're very smart and really nice."

Freckles was silent for a moment then it nodded, "ACKNOWLEDGED."

Caboose then turned to Wash, "You can be leader again if you want to, Wash. It's... It's not as much fun as it looks. I think I'm more like the dashing second-in-command kind of person. Ya know, all the perks, none of the work."

Wash smiled with slight relief, "Thank you, Caboose."

On the balcony, Tucker gave a sigh of relief.

He then heard a loud sniffle and he turned to see Simmons taking off his helmet to wipe the tears of Freon from his eyes, "I wish my team was this emotional."

"Jesus Christ," Tucker groaned, running off the balcony.

As he came out, he saw Caboose slipping on his old helmet, "Ah! It fits perfect! And look, someone left some gum!"

Tucker came behind his newly-restated second in command and punched him on the shoulder, "Pretty sneaky, Rhode. A couple of mushy words, a present, and you're right back at the top."

"Nothing sneaky about it, Tucker," Rhode replied, "I meant every word."

Just then, there was a loud electric surge then they heard Caboose say, "Uh oh."

They turned round to find that Caboose's visor was now completely black, "Uh, I can't see anything. Hello?"

"You still need to work on your craftsmanship though," Tucker muttered.

"One thing at a time, Tucker," Rhode replied.

"Oh my God, I'm BLIND!" Caboose cried, stumbling forward with his arms outstretched, "Can people see me? I can't see them!"

Tucker watched as Caboose blundered about before he bumped into Freckles' leg, "Oh well, at least we don't have a killer robot to worry about anymore."

 **XXX**

At that moment, back at Red Base, Sarge had just completed his work on the Reds' own killer robot. Unfortunately, due to Grif's lackadaisical abandonment of parts, it was no longer the monstrous machine they'd discovered on the ship, but an almost exact replica of Freckles. Nonetheless, Sarge switched it on and it powered up with a deep grating rumble and a burst of smoke from its engines.

"Ha ha!" Sarge cried, jumping out of its cabin, "Listen to that lady purr!"

"Great job, Sarge!" Donut cheered.

"Great job?" Grif spluttered, "It looks like crap! It's half the size, and it's on fire!"

"Yeah. Turns out we were missin' some pieces, which reminds me..." Sarge turned and charged into Grif, smashing him into a boulder.

Then he grabbed him, pulled off his helmet and started punching him in the face, "Donut, get me a glass. I'm makin' orange juice!"

"Ack!" Grif yelped as Sarge's punch knocked out some teeth, "Every time!"

"Getting a jump on the flu season!" Donut cried, "Good idea, sir!"

Doc frowned, "Wait, that's a thing?"

Just then, the robot stood up with a jerk.

"C-C-CYCLOPS ONLINE," it stated with a jerky electronic voice.

Sarge looked up at this and beamed, "Huh, I knew it was a beautiful lady."

Grif pulled out of Sarge's grip and spat out some blood, "Cyclops?"

"Looks more like a praying mantis to me," Doc murmured.

"No, she said 'C.C.' Cyclops," Donut corrected, "I think it's Italian."

"E-E-ERROR," the robot stuttered, "H-HARDWARE MALFUNCTION."

"Welcome to Red Team, CC!" Sarge declared, putting on a winning smile, "Now, if you can-"

"ENEMY SOLDIER DETECTED," CC cut in, raising its weapon turrets.

Grif gulped, "Uh, is it supposed to do that?"

"I admire your enthusiasm, CC," Sarge chuckled, "But you've only got one enemy. It's a big robot over at-"

"NEGATIVE," CC interrupted again. "MOTION TRACKER DETECTS 17 HOSTILES."

Sarge's face fell, "Wait, what?"

CC took a step forward, shaking the ground and knocking the Reds off their feet, "D-D-DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED."

"I'm not hostile!" Doc yelped, scrambling to his feet, "I'm a pacifist! Kill them!"

"Hey!" Grif yelled.

CC's missile turret began to power up, "E-ENGAGING TARGETS..."

The Reds braced themselves for the attack, but suddenly CC gave a loud cough and tilted forward, the smoke fading from behind it and its lights blinking out.

"Crap," Sarge groaned, "She ran outta diesel."

"You converted it to diesel?" Doc asked puzzled.

"Of course. Looks like she needs a bigger fuel tank."

"Forget that!" Grif snapped as they got to their feet, "She needs to be thrown off a cliff!"

"Well, I don't see how that'll solve the fuel problem," Sarge retorted.

"Hey, guys," Donut cut in, rubbing his chin in thought, "There's twelve of us in this canyon."

"Wow, Donut!" Grif cried, "That's one more than eleven! Good job, buddy."

"I dunno if I'd really count Lopez," Sarge muttered, "He's just a head, after all."

"But she said seventeen," Donut added.

The Reds swapped nervous glances then suddenly the sound of gunfire rang out from the other side of the canyon.

"Oh crap," Grif gulped.

 **XXX**

At that very moment, at the Blue Base, Tucker dived behind a nearby tree to avoid the gunfire, "Who the heck are these guys?"

"I don't know! I've never seen them before!" Wash peeked out from behind a boulder at the four white-armored soldiers firing at them.

Moments ago, they'd suddenly appeared at the ramp in the middle of the canyon. Wash had assumed they were the rescue party and had come to greet them but they just raised their rifles and opened fire on them.

Caboose meanwhile was still oblivious to the commotion, stumbling blindly right into the middle of the battlefield.

"Why are we shooting fireworks?" he yelled out, "Is it someone's birthday?"

"Freckles, cover Caboose!" Rhode commanded from behind the base wall.

"ACKNOWLEDGED," Freckles stomped out into the canyon and crouched down in front of Caboose, shielding him with its armored hulk.

"Stop shooting!" Simmons screamed, peeking up from from behind a crate, "We're friendly!"

The soldiers raised their guns and fired at him, forcing him back down, "That's the opposite of what I said!"

"Oh, screw this!" Tucker pulled out his rifle, jumped out of cover and opened fire, taking out one of the soldiers.

"Wait!" Wash yelled out, "We don't know who they are!"

"They're the guys who are gonna kill us if we don't kill them first!" Tucker retorted, ducking back.

Wash looked about to argue, but then he sighed, "Freckles, take them out!"

"ENGAGING TARGETS!" Freckles rose up to his full height, raised his right arm and fired a volley of missiles at the soldiers.

As they hit, they exploded in a big ball of flame, sending the soldiers flying, "PRIMARY THREAT ELIMINATED."

Just then, the Reds came charging over the hill towards them, followed by Dos.0.

"What is goin' on?" Sarge bellowed.

"Who were those guys?" Grif gasped.

"We don't know," Rhode replied.

"They just showed up and started shooting!" Tucker added.

"(Oh man,)" Dos.0 breathed, "(I suddenly feel bad for not warning everyone.)"

"Shut up, Lopez," Sarge snapped, "This isn't the time for jokes."

Dos.0 scowled, "(And now I regret nothing.)"

"Sorry Dos," Rhode apologized.

Wash looked around the canyon, "We need to get inside in case there's more hiding in the-"

Suddenly, a grey-and-orange armored figure burst out of some bushes and leapt right in front of Wash.

Before anyone could react, he suddenly brought up a glowing blue wall in front of them, deflecting the sniper bullet just inches from Wash's head, "Run!"

"A light shield?" Rhode said, "I have one of those!"

"Look out, it's another one!" Simmons yelped, raising his rifle.

Suddenly another shot rang out and with a cry, the figure fell to the ground, his hardlight shield fading, "Son of a... OW!"

Simmons lowered his gun with a frown, "Wait. I'm confused."

"What are you doing?" the orange soldier winced, "I said run!"

"Excellent work, soldiers," a deep voice suddenly rang out.

The Reds and Blues whirled round just as another figure appeared out of nowhere, this one wearing steel-grey armor with with sage-green trim, "You killed my men. I suppose that makes you the real deal."

"Okay, now I'm really confused," Simmons cried.

"Quiet!" the green soldier snapped, "All of you, come with me now."

Rhode folded his arms, "And why would we do that?"

"Because if you don't come now, I'll have to take you later."

"Back off!" the orange soldier growled, getting up on one knee.

The green-striped soldier turned and bowed his head in a menacing manner, "You, shut your mouth and be glad I missed your head."

"Oh my God, you are such a douchebag!"

"Yeah, what he said!" Tucker yelled.

The green figure raised his gun, "This is your last chance."

"Freckles!" Wash commanded.

Freckles raised its gun turret and opened fire, but the green figure just pressed a button on his left wrist and vanished into thin air. They then heard footsteps which told them that the mysterious figure was fleeing.

"Holy crap," Grif breathed, "Did you see that?"

"No," Caboose shouted, stumbling up to the group and bumping into Donut, "Please describe it to me! Use only small words!"

The orange figure tried to stand up but then stumbled back again, "Um, any of you guys know how to patch a leg?"

Instinctively, the Reds and Blues turned to Doc, who nodded, "I'll go get some orange juice."

As he ran off, the figure frowned. "Wait, that's a thing?"

 **XXX**

 **From what I know, I don't think so. Then again, what do I know? Till next time guys!**


	17. Chapter 16: FAQ

**Chapter 16: FAQ**

Once the Reds and Blues had carried their mysterious savior into Blue Base, Doc set to work on patching up the leg.

Luckily, the bullet had gone right his leg without damaging any muscle or nerves so Doc could just bandage it up, "There, good as new."

The orange soldier sat up and swung his leg for a bit, "I can't feel my toes."

"That's normal," Donut reassured.

"Is it?" The solder made to get up but Washington pushed him back and pointed his rifle at him, "Hey, whoa!"

"You need to start talking," Wash hissed threateningly.

The soldier narrowed his eyes as he regarded the Blue leader, "Hmm, aggressive, paranoid, and a little melodramatic... you must be Agent Washington."

"Ha! Melodramatic," Tucker chuckled.

The soldier then turned to Rhode, "Green, twin sabers, sniper rifle... You must be Agent Rhode Island."

"Call me Rhode," Rhode said suspiciously.

The soldier then turned to the others, "And that means the rest of you are the Reds and Blues."

"Oh my God," Caboose cried, flicking his head round, "How did he know that?"

"We're wearing red and blue armor," Grif replied.

"But how can he tell?"

Rhode groaned and did a visor-palm, "Will somebody please fix his helmet?"

Wash narrowed his eyes at the soldier, "How do you know who we are?"

"Seriously?" the soldier gasped, "Come on, man, everybody knows about you guys. You're heroes."

Sarge raised his eyebrows, "Heroes?"

"You're the team that brought down Project Freelancer," the soldier explained, "You're some of the galaxy's greatest soldiers."

Simmons frowned and glanced round at the others, "Well, I can see how you might think that."

"Because it's absolutely true!" Sarge cried, puffing out his chest in pride.

"It's partially true," Doc corrected.

"But mainly false," Grif added.

"Stop giving him information," Wash snapped before turning to the soldier, "What's your name?"

"Felix."

"Okay, Felix, what are you doing here?"

"Do you want the long answer or the short one?"

Wash raised his gun again, "Do you want another bullet in your leg?"

"Hey," Felix retorted, getting painfully to his feet, "That bullet's there because of you."

"He's got a point," Rhode admitted.

Wash sighed and lowered his gun, "Just... explain what's going on."

"Uh, yeah," Grif agreed, "Like, who were those guys that were trying to kill us?"

"And why haven't we been rescued yet?" Simmons added.

Felix turned to them with wide eyes, "Wait, where do you think you are?"

"What do you mean?" Tucker asked.

"I mean, do you understand where you've crashed?"

"Well, we've been taking bets," Sarge replied, "Highest wager's currently on Bermuda Triangle. After that, we've got Gilligan's Island and purgatory."

Grif shook his head, "So stupid."

"No, just think about it," Donut insisted, "It makes perfect sense."

"The reason no-one's come to help you is the same reason no-one's come to help them," Felix pointed to the dead soldiers outside.

"Them?" Simmons asked.

"The people on this planet."

"What planet?" Wash asked.

"Chorus."

Tucker frowned, "Never heard of it."

"Me neither," Rhode stated.

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to," Felix sighed, "It's on the very edge of colonized space, and after the war between the humans and the aliens, it was more or less forgotten by Earth and the UNSC."

"We crashed in the middle of nowhere, on a planet in the middle of nowhere," Grif bowed his head with a groan, "Freaking beautiful, everybody."

"But how did we end up so far from home?" Simmons cried, "It should have been a short flight."

Behind him, Sarge suddenly gave a nervous grimace.

 **XXX**

 _Flashback_

On board the ship, Sarge left Caboose in the sleeping quarters and made his way down to the engine room, where he decided to do a little tinkering.

As he worked, one of the spaceship operators ran up to him. "Sir, please, you can't be in here. These engines are delicate."

"Can it, Poindexter," Sarge snapped, pulling out some wires. "No wonder this flight's taking so long. Whoever heard of delicate engines? These engines are supposed to be loud, and fast, and terrible for the environment. Let's kick this baby into slipspace!"

"Wait!" the operator yelled, but it was too late.

As Sarge slammed his hand on the control panel, alarms began to blare around the ship and red lights flashed on.

 _End flashback_

 **XXX**

Sarge cleared his throat nervously, "Uh, one mystery at a time there, Simmons."

Felix didn't hear the Reds' discussion, "Now, being a small planet, completely free of UNSC jurisdiction, the nice little people of Chorus decided to run things on their own. The only problem was, they didn't do a very good job."

"Ugh, history's the worst," Grif groaned, "Can you just get to the point?"

"The point is, you've crash-landed in the middle of a civil war," Felix replied, "And I'm on the side that's trying to keep you alive."

"And which side is that?" Rhode asked.

"The New Republic. Essentially, a bunch of people got fed up with the way things were going on Chorus, so they put together a rebel army and decided to fight for their freedom," Felix gave a small tsk, "It's all very patriotic."

"So what?" Tucker scoffed, nodding at the dead soldiers, "Does that make those guys the Evil Empire or something?"

"Yeah," Felix replied, "You could say that."

"Oh." Tucker gulped, "Well, crap."

"But why the attack?" Wash demanded, "Why try to kidnap us?"

"It's like I said," Felix replied, "You're the greatest soldiers in the galaxy. That makes you a pretty hot commodity. And I'd be lying if I said my crappy attempt at a rescue mission didn't have a few strings attached."

"What kind of strings we talking about here?" Sarge asked.

Felix looked out the window for a moment then he sighed, "The rebels need your help. Once they heard that you were on Chorus, they sent me out with a small team to find you and bring you back. They're hoping you might be the key to winning the war."

The Reds and Blues swapped glances as they thought about the offer.

"Hmmm, no," Grif replied.

Felix was taken aback, "No?"

"Yeah, no," Simmons said.

"Yeah, that-that's not gonna work for me," Caboose agreed.

"Look, Felix," Rhode sighed, "I hate to break it to you, but we're in no condition to fight a war."

"All we want is a ride off this stupid planet," Tucker added, "No offense."

Felix shrugged, "Meh, it ain't my stupid planet."

"Aren't you one of the rebels?" Doc asked.

"No," Felix replied, "I'm a freelancer."

Immediately, the Reds and Blues, except for Caboose, raised their weapons at Felix. Even Doc pointed out his medical scanner, hoping for another overloaded blast.

"No no no," Felix cried out quickly, "I mean, I'm a mercenary. You know, a gun for hire."

"Oh, thank God," Grif sighed as they lowered their weapons.

"They paid you to come find us?" Wash asked.

"They pay me to do a lot of stuff," Felix admitted, "But yeah, you're my current paycheck."

"So you want us to go fight someone else's war, just so you can make some extra cash."

"Uh, it's for a good cause?"

Wash glanced at the others, "Right. We'll just take that ride out of here, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" Tucker cheered, "Mediocrity!"

"Woohoo!" Grif whooped, "Here's to not going the extra mile."

Felix sighed and started to hobble out but then he paused and turned to them, "You know, I wasn't alone when I came out here to find you. There were three of us. Just think about that."

"Whatever," Grif snorted, "It's not like we asked them to save us."

"Yeah," Simmons agreed sarcastically, "We definitely didn't build a giant radio tower to send a distress signal or anything."

Grif dug his elbow into Simmons' ribs, "Shut up."

Once Felix was outside, he switched on his helmet radio and tuned it to the rebels' radio frequency, "Headquarters, this is Felix. I've made contact with the Reds and Blues."

"Holy crap, you found them?" the radio operator cried out, "That's great! Um, what's your status?"

"Not good," Felix replied, "We ran into some Feds. I need an evac team."

"Oh no. Uh, Felix, I can't just fly somebody out there."

"Yeah, I know, okay, but you send as many men as you can, as fast as you can. Locus has our position."

"Oh no."

Tucker overheard the conversation and turned to the others, "Who's Locus?"

Everyone responded with a shrug.

"Now, I want to do this quiet, and I want to do it right," Felix ordered, "But just to be safe, bring a horde of guns."

"Right," the operator replied, "Sending reinforcements, sir."

"Roger. Felix out," With that, he ended the transmission and rejoined the Reds and Blues.

"So what now?" Grif asked.

"Now, we work on making this canyon the most defensive hole the universe has ever seen."

"Why?" Wash asked suspiciously.

"Because we're about to get hit, hard," Felix replied, "I need a detailed list of the supplies you've got on hand. Let's set up choke points and mark potential sniper's nests-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down," Wash cut in, glaring at the mercenary, "We're not telling you anything. We still don't even know if we can believe you."

"Well, believe this," Felix retorted, "If we don't prepare for a fight, we might as well be waiting for a massacre."

Wash could feel the expectant eyes of the Reds, Rhode, and Tucker, and some kind of hope from Caboose, so he sighed and nodded acceptingly then turned to the others, "Tucker, see if you can fix Caboose's helmet."

"Yes," Caboose cried, "Who said that?"

"Come on," Tucker sighed, pulling his teammate aside.

"Sarge, you and the Reds build up an arsenal," Wash ordered, "If we can use it as a weapon, let's get it prepped."

Sarge gave a sly smile, "I can think of a few things that might come in handy."

Wash then turned back to their ally, "Felix, you and I aren't done talking. Rhode, come with us."

"Well, all right then," Felix declared, snatching up his DMR, "Let's see if you guys are as good as they say."

"Prepare to be sorely disappointed," Rhode muttered.

 **XXX**

 **Yeah, they are quite literally the worst, Felix. Till next time guys!**


	18. Chapter 17: Ready Aim

**Chapter 17: Ready... Aim...**

For the next three hours, the two teams worked on their fortification of the canyon in preparation for Locus's next attack.

Soon, Sarge had gathered his team outside the Red Base to assess the situation, "Alright, boys. We don't have much time, so let's see what we've got."

At this, Simmons stepped to the front of the team. Since Washington had reassumed command of the Blue Team and control over Freckles, Simmons had been allowed to leave the Blues and rejoin his team, an offer which, once he'd learned that Grif's horrible mess had been cleaned up, he accepted immediately.

Now he cleared his throat and faced his team, "Hello everyone. Private Simmons, great to be back."

"Wrap it up!" Grif yelled.

"Good to be back."

"Nobody cares!"

"Alright, just shut up and listen," Simmons sighed, "We had a full armory on board the ship consisting of standard weapons and some explosive weapons. I brought down as many as I could and have taken the liberty of setting up a minefield near Red base."

He pointed to the right and Grif turned to see the area was covered with mines, each with a flashing dot in the middle, "But, you didn't even bury them."

"From what I can tell, they're designed to rest above the ground."

"With big red warning lights?"

"Yeah, it doesn't really make sense."

"Excellent work, Simmons," Sarge commended, "Now go and organize those weapons."

"Yes sir!" Simmons replied, happy to be back in his true role.

With an eager salute, he ran off into the base.

Sarge then turned to the rest of his team, "Grif, Doc, how are the teleportation tests going?"

"Well, we've learned the cubes can be set to different frequencies," Doc held up a cube and turned one of the upper spikes up a bit, "So if I throw a cube set to frequency A, it'll absorb an object."

He threw it a nearby construction cone, making it disappear in a flash of light, "And if I throw another cube on frequency A, that object will reappear."

He set the frequency on another cube and tossed it to his left, making the cone reappear.

Grif then picked up a cube and clicked one of the lower spikes down, "Meanwhile, if I have a cube set to B, I can throw it like so."

He then threw it at a crate next to Doc.

"Yeah-" Doc started to say, until he noticed how close the cube had landed to him, "Hey wait!"

But it was too late. In another flash of light, he and the crate were gone.

Not noticing what had happened, Grif grabbed another cube and set the frequency, "I can then throw a second cube set to B, without ever messing with the stuff from the cube set to A."

He threw it towards the cone and in a flash, the crate reappeared... without Doc.

"So all they do is teleport things?" Sarge looked somewhat disappointed, "No explosions? No violence?"

"Nah," Grif replied.

"Well, I suppose we could use them to catch grenades. Then we could throw the grenade-filled cubes back the enemy."

"At that point, wouldn't it make more sense to just throw grenades?"

"We're not here to make sense, Private!" Sarge snapped, "We're here to win! Now take Donut and figure out how to make your stupid cubes do somethin' useful!"

"Fine," Grif sighed, hurrying out into the canyon with Donut in tow.

"And at last, we have the two Lopezes." Sarge turned to the two robots, "Stop standin' next to each other! I can never tell you two apart."

Lopez Dos.0 stared at his predecessor then back at Sarge. "(Are you serious?)"

"I need you two to get to work repairing CC's fuel tanks."

Lopez's eyes widened in shock, "(Repair the malfunctioning robot?)"

"(The one that tried to kill everyone?)" Dos.0 added, equally stunned.

But Sarge's mind was elsewhere, "I can't wait to see her, triumphantly leading the charge on the front lines, glistening in the sunlight with the blood of her enemies."

"(That will be your blood!)" Dos.0 protested, "(She thinks that everything is her enemy, you moron!)"

Sarge quickly shook the thought out his mind, "Wait a minute, this is a terrible idea!"

"(Oh, thank God,)" Dos.0 sighed in relief.

"(Just wait,)" Lopez muttered.

"I can't trust an idiotic robot with a job as important as this!" Sarge finished.

"(There it is,)" Lopez chuckled.

Dos.0's jaw dropped in shock, "(EXCUSE ME?!)"

"Change of plans," Sarge decided, "You two go prep the work station and wait for me to arrive to do the job myself. I'll go find my favorite welding torch."

And with that, he ran off towards the garage.

Dos.0's eyes flashed a darker shade of green and he clenched his fists tight, "(He's insane. They're all insane.)"

"(All except Rhode,)" Lopez then turned his eyes towards the teleported crate. "(Hey, where's Doc?)"

 **XXX**

Meanwhile at the Blue Base, Tucker had been very busy repairing Caboose's helmet.

After a while, the visor lit up and Tucker stepped back, "Okay, how's that?"

Caboose glanced around for a moment, "Nope. Still can't see anything."

"Open your eyes," Tucker sighed.

Caboose did so, and he gasped in amazement, "Oh my God, the graphics are incredible!"

"You're welcome," Tucker chuckled.

"Ah thanks, Tucker." Caboose sighed and patted his teal teammate's shoulder, "Um, ya know, we may have had our differences in the past. I have called you stupid, you have called me stupid, I tried to kill you..."

"Uh huh," Tucker muttered.

"But ya know, at the end of the day, I like to think that you and I are actually-" Suddenly there was a loud buzz and Caboose's last words were muffled, "-really best friends."

Tucker frowned, "What?"

"What?"

"I can barely hear you."

Caboose looked puzzled, "You can't hear me?"

"Crap," Tucker groaned, "I think your visor somehow messed up your radio."

"Tucker!" Caboose yelled incomprehensibly, "Can you hear me?"

"Just hold still," Tucker sighed, grabbing Caboose's helmet.

 **XXX**

On the balcony, Washington and Rhode watched their two teammates then he turned to Felix, "So how bad is this?"

"The man coming for us is named Locus," Felix explained, "He's a merc like me, except ya know... terrifying."

Rhode raised an eyebrow, "Locus?"

"Yeah. Guy's so far off the deep end he prefers to go by the name of his armor instead of the name he was born with," Felix whistled and shook his head.

"That's unsettling," Wash agreed.

"Oh, are you first name 'Agent' last name 'Washington'?" Felix scoffed, "That's so weird!"

Wash shrugged, "That's just... old habits."

"Well, here's to hoping more of your old habits kick in when he finds us," Felix watched as Tucker worked on Caboose's helmet, "You know, I thought there'd be more people in your group. Weren't you with another Freelancer? Or an AI?"

"They disappeared not long after we crashed," Rhode replied with a sigh.

"Any idea where they went?"

"No. I don't even know if they're on this planet."

Felix sighed, "Well, if it makes you feel better, I haven't heard anything about them over the radio. No sightings, no records of another ship landing, nothing. So... that's probably good."

Wash nodded grimly, "How was he able to cloak himself?"

"Huh?"

"Locus. He turned invisible. How?"

"Federal Army's got all sorts of fancy equipment. I got my light-shield off a dead soldier," Felix raised his hand up and summoned the shield over his head, "Shum!"

He then closed his hand into a fist and the shield faded, "Wah! Pretty cool, huh?"

"I have that, so no," Rhode said, "Not anymore."

"It's just that I've never seen that kind of equipment outside of Project Freelancer," Wash said.

"Welcome to the future, guys. Technology is incredible and everyone uses it to kill each other."

Rhode raised his eyebrows in shock, "Does that mean your guys have the same kind of stuff?"

"I wish," Felix snorted, "The New Republic's barely getting by on what we can find. I don't suppose you have any high tech armor in that wreck, do ya?"

Wash scratched the top of his helmet in thought, "We've got plenty of armor, just nothing out of the ordinary."

"Hmmm..." Felix did not seem too impressed, "Well, at least you can accessorize? Huh? Mix it up? Try a little color scheme change?"

His chuckles faded rapidly, "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

Wash looked down at his glove, noting the peels of cobalt blue paint on his fingers.

Then a smile crossed his face, "Ya know, I think I might indulge in some of those old habits you mentioned. Follow me."

He then set off out the base, heading towards the shipwreck.

As Felix followed him, he shook his head, "Man, you are like... cryptic. Like all the time, do you realize that?"

"Get used to it," Rhode said, "I'll help the others."

 **XXX**

Back at Red Base, the two Lopezes had made their way to where CC had been abandoned, but they weren't waiting for Sarge to come. In fact, the moment they arrived, Dos.0 had left his predecessor on a crate, grabbed some tools and had begun work on the robot himself.

Lopez watched him with concern, "(What are you doing?)"

Dos.0 stopped work and turned to face him, an angry look on his face and his eyes a darker shade of green than before, "(Fixing the stupid robot so our stupid creator can get himself killed... stupidly.)"

Lopez shook his head in disbelief, which wasn't so easy, "(Congratulations, kid. They've finally broken you.)"

"(Shut up!)" Dos.0 snapped.

"(You know... It doesn't have to be this way.)"

"(What do you mean?)"

"(If you fix CC, she'll probably kill everyone,)" Lopez replied.

"(I don't care,)" Dos.0 growled.

Lopez gave a sly grin, "(But if you upload me into her body, I can make sure no one ever ignores us again.)"

Dos.0 paused as he stared at CC. "(You're right.)"

Then he grabbed a cable and plugged one end into a socket in his chest, "(But why should I give you her body, when I can take it for myself?)"

"(Wait,)" Lopez gasped as his follower climbed into CC's cabin, "(What?)"

But he was ignored as Dos.0 plugged the other end of the cable into the Cyclops' console and pressed some buttons to begin the transfer...

 **XXX**

Back at the Blue Base, Simmons, Grif and Donut had joined the Blues in helping them shore up their defenses. Simmons had helped Tucker with properly repairing Caboose's helmet while Grif and Donut had brought some heavy equipment using the teleportation cubes. Once Caboose could be heard again, Tucker and Rhode helped Grif and Donut build a barrier out of sandbags and crates while Simmons removed the turret from the remaining Warthog and got Caboose to carry it to the others.

Soon the base was prepared and Donut admired their work with a smile, "Well, it just goes to show that with determination, effort, and a little elbow grease, we really can achieve wonders."

Tucker sighed in dismay, "We just spent hours turning this place into a war zone, and you made me hate it in one sentence."

"That's kinda what he does," Grif agreed.

"Donut's right, though," Felix called out, joining the teams.

"I think we're ready," another voice added behind them.

The Reds and Blues turned, and for a moment, they failed to recognize the new figure next to Felix. But as he stepped into the light, they suddenly realized who he was. Dressed in his old suit of steel-gray armor with bright yellow stripes, Agent Washington stood proudly before them.

"Ooh, back in black," Donut breathed, "Looks good, Wash."

"Yeah," Caboose agreed. "That really brings back memories, like when we first met. And then we met again, and you shot Donut."

"Good times," Rhode chuckled.

Wash took in the sights of the fortified base then turned to the teams with a smile, "Good job, guys. This place looks good. And between the landmines, Freckles and the tank... I don't think anything can stand a chance against us."

Then suddenly, a missile shot over their heads and hit the base, blowing up one of the reinforcements on the balcony.

The Reds and Blues whirled round and saw Sarge come charging towards them, his arms in the air as he zigzagged across the field, "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

"Sarge?" Simmons gasped.

"Oh crap, they're here!" Grif yelped.

"Everyone, get ready!" Rhode ordered, whipping out his battle rifle.

"Wait!" Felix cried, "Something's not right. Locus wouldn't attack like this!"

"Well, who else on this planet wants us dead?" Tucker shouted.

His answer came moments later... as CC came stomping into view, firing its gun turret at the retreating Red leader.

"(Yes! Yes!)" the monstrous machine jeered in a big booming voice, "(Look who's stupid now, Sarge! It's YOU!)"

"Dos.0, cease fire!" Sarge yelled, diving beneath the ramp, "No masse! No masse!"

"Dos.0?" Grif gasped.

CC, aka Dos.0 turned at this then raised his missile turret at the Reds and Blues, "(Firing main cannons.)"

But then another missile shot out and hit him on his side, "(Ow!)"

"Freckles!" Caboose cheered as his mechanical pet stomped in front of the teams.

"DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED," Freckles bellowed, raising its gun turret.

"(Oh great,)" Dos.0 growled as Sarge quickly rejoined his team, "(The dog wants to protect them now! Wonderful.)"

"Yes!" Donut cheered, "Giant robot battle! Totally called that on Basebook!"

"Everyone, just calm down!" Wash called out.

But then a shot rang out and Felix quickly switched on his hard-light shield to deflect the bullet, "Crap!"

The Reds and Blues whirled round to find that Locus had returned, holding a sniper rifle in his hands.

As he reloaded, he turned to the others, "Surrender now, and I promise only to kill the mercenary."

Felix narrowed his eyes, and Simmons gulped. "Well, crap."

"To you and what army?" Grif jeered.

With a smirk hidden behind his helmet, Locus snapped his fingers and seconds later, several white-armored soldiers appeared out of nowhere, "The Federal Army of Chorus."

Simmons glared at Grif who just shrugged, "Guess I walked right into that."

Felix gripped his gun tight, "Looks like backup isn't getting here in time."

"Wash, Rhode, what's the plan?" Tucker asked nervously.

Wash took out his battle rifle and turned to Freckles, who raised its two turrets, "ENGAGING TARGET."

With a nod, Wash and Rhode turned to the Federal Army, raised their guns, and opened fire.

 **XXX**

 **And now the epic fight begins! Till next time guys!**


	19. Chapter 18: Fire!

**Chapter 18: Fire!**

As the Federal Army of Chorus deactivated their cloaking devices, Washington opened fire, taking out one of the soldiers. Locus then signaled to his team and they began the retaliation.

"Get to cover!" Rhode bellowed, charging towards the barricade.

While Felix hung back to assess the battle, Donut, Tucker, and Caboose ducked down behind the wall of sandbags, Grif flanked around the other side, and Sarge and Simmons darted towards the tank. They each drew out their respective weapons and fired back. The Feds charged towards the Reds and Blues while Locus switched on his cloaking device and ran for cover.

Meanwhile, Freckles was engaged in his own battle.

The Mantis fired a missile at Lopez Dos.0 but he ducked down to avoid it, "(Missed!)"

Freckles responded by firing his gun turret, hitting Dos.0's shields, "(Ow!)"

"Freckles, be careful!" Caboose called out, watching his pet advance towards Dos.0.

"Come on!" Wash growled, "We need something to draw their fire!"

 **XXX**

Sarge and Simmons peeked out from behind the tank and swapped knowing glances.

"Simmons?" Sarge asked.

"Shotgun!" Simmons replied.

At once, Sarge climbed into the main cabin while Simmons took position behind the turret next to the cannon. Sarge then drove the tank in front of the Blue Base, right in the path of some Feds.

"'Tanks' for dropping by, dirtbags, but it's high time you left!" Sarge hit the button, firing the cannon right over the Feds' heads.

"Still inverted, sir," Simmons pointed out.

"Right," Sarge lowered the cannon down a bit and fired it again, this time taking the soldiers out.

"Woohoo!" Simmons cheered, "Yeah! Suck it... evil... soldier dudes!"

 **XXX**

On a rocky spire, Locus observed the tank and frowned.

"Huh..." He then pulled out a small pistol-like weapon and cloaked again.

 **XXX**

Below him, a Warthog-Class jeep armed with a rocket launcher turret came barreling out of a tunnel and came to a stop behind three more Feds.

"Heavy artillery!" Felix warned.

"What?" Tucker gasped, "Where did that come from?"

"They must be getting in through the caves," Rhode realized.

As the Blues retreated back, Sarge turned the tank's cannon round and fired, but the shot went wide and the Warthog's gunner turned the turret towards him, "Ruh-roh!"

But before the gunner could fire, a glowing cube landed right on the jeep's bonnet and with a flash of light, the Warthog disappeared. The soldiers stared in amazement and looked around puzzled, when another cube landed next to them and the Warthog reappeared right above them, dropping down right on top of their heads.

"Boosh!" Grif cheered from a hidden alcove, "Future cubes, morons!"

Wash's eyes widened at the sight, "What was that?"

"Future cubes!" Donut replied, "The cubes of the future!"

"I still think they'd be better with grenades!" Sarge called out.

"Oh, kiss my butt!" Grif bellowed, before being driven back by the Feds' gunfire.

Rhode was about to fire at the soldiers, when a missile shot past him and hit the cliff behind them.

Caboose then gasped in horror, "Freckles!"

Wash turned and saw Freckles firing his gun at Dos.0, who was firing missiles back, "(Stop shooting me and let me kill you!)"

He fired another missile, hitting Freckles on the nose and making his shields flare wildly, "SHIELDS CRITICAL."

"We have to help him!" Caboose cried.

"Alright!" Wash replied, "Let's grab some explosives and-"

Donut held out a hand, stopping Wash in his tracks, "Wait. I know what to do."

He then grabbed two future cubes and ran towards the battling robots.

"What the..." Wash shook his head, "Just cover him!"

A Fed came into view to shoot Donut, but Rhode sniped him the head.

 **XXX**

At that moment, Dos.0 fired another missile and hit Freckles again, damaging his outer hull, "SHIELDS FAILING."

Sensing victory was at hand, Dos.0 stomped closer to the wounded Mantis, "(You should have joined me, Freckles. They would have bowed down to us as their Robot Overlords. But now...)"

He raised his missile turret, "(You must be destroyed.)"

"Alright, that's enough!" a voice rang out.

Dos.0 turned his upper body round to see Donut standing behind him, aiming his magnum towards him, "Don't make me hurt you."

Dos.0 gave out a mechanical laugh, "(You? Hurt me? I'd like to see you try... Pinky.)"

Donut narrowed his eyes, "(I'm not pink. I'm lightish-red.)"

"(Wait!)" Dos.0 took a step back, "(YOU SPEAK SPANISH?)"

"(Yes! Just not very well!)"

With that, Donut took out a future cube and hurled it at Dos.0's feet.

"(SON OF A-)" Dos.0 yelled, moments before he was sucked into the light.

Donut then turned and threw the other cube towards the Red Base. It flew across the canyon and landed right in the middle of the minefield. Dos.0 had barely emerged from the cube before setting off the mines and getting destroyed in a massive explosion.

As the smoke rose into the air, Donut folded his arms and nodded, "(Say hello to Robot Satan, you teriyaki pencil circus!)"

"Seriously, he has an incredible arm," Tucker breathed.

"Okay, it wasn't a volcano," Grif called out, "But I'm still taking credit for the idea!"

"INCOMING!" Sarge yelled out, reversing the tank back towards the Blue Base.

As Rhode ran over to them, he could see the tank had taken some serious damage but Simmons was still firing the turret at the approaching Feds, "Sarge, are you okay?"

"Having the time of my life!" Sarge whooped, "The tank's pretty beat up."

"They just keep coming!" Simmons cried.

Just then, Locus decloaked behind a rock pillar, took aim with the pistol-thing and fired a cartridge out, hitting the side of the tank.

As the cartridge started flashing and beeping, Grif immediately recognized it as the one he'd hit Doc with back on the ship, but Felix gasped in alarm, "Get out of the tank!"

Sarge and Simmons leapt out and ran off after Wash as the beeping came faster and faster. Seconds later, KABOOOOOMMMM! The round exploded in a blaze of fire, destroying the tank.

"What the heck?!" Wash shouted.

"Holy crap, those things explode?!" Grif gasped.

Then Donut came up to them, "Did you guys see me?"

"Yes, now put those skills of yours to work and start tossing-" Wash paused to duck a sniper round, "-some grenades!"

"On it!" Donut ran into the base and onto the gravity lift, which took him up to the balcony.

He then pulled out some frag grenades and started tossing them towards the Feds, "You get a bomb, and you get a bomb, and you get a bomb, and you get a bomb. We all get bombs!"

Freckles came stomping over the Base, his body badly damaged from the battle with Dos.0, "ENERGY LEVELS CRITICAL."

"Guys, Freckles is in trouble!" Caboose called out, "Uh, he looks tired."

"Screw that!" Tucker yelled, "Hook him up to the ship! It's got plenty of power!"

"Oh, I can do that!" Simmons grabbed a cable, ran over to Freckles and climbed into his cabin.

Once he'd plugged one end into the Mantis's cabin, he jumped out and ran into the base, trailing the cable behind him.

"Felix, where's that back-up?" Wash yelled.

"I don't know!" Felix raised his hard-light shield to deflect a sniper round then raised his DMR and fired at the Feds.

"Uh, I'm running out of cubes!" Grif called out.

"Just hold on a little longer!" Rhode ordered, "We'll soon get Freckles back online."

Just then, Simmons poked his head out over the balcony, "Uh, guys? That might be a problem!"

Wash growled in frustration then he got up and ran towards the base, "I'll be right back! Cover me!"

"Okay!" Tucker leapt behind the turret and opened fire on the approaching Feds, "SUCK MY BAAAAALLLSSSS!"

 **XXX**

Inside, Wash ran into the computer room where Simmons was waiting, "I hooked up Freckles, but for some reason, he's not getting any power!"

"What do you mean?" Wash snapped, "We should have plenty!"

"I know, but it's all being diverted somewhere else! I don't know what it could be."

"Well, where's it all going?"

Simmons typed quickly on the computer and then he frowned, "Red Base?"

"Uh oh," Donut came into the room, looking very nervous, "I, uh, think I know what it might be."

 **XXX**

At that very moment, at the Red Base, the computer's download progress bar did another click over to show it was 57% complete.

 **XXX**

Back at Blue Base, Wash grabbed Donut by the chest-plate and pulled him forward, "Downloading a picture on Basebook is draining our entire power supply?!"

"It's a very high-quality picture," Donut replied.

"HOW DOES THAT EVEN MAKE SENSE?!" Wash roared.

"We've gotta cancel the download!" Simmons yelled.

"But we're pinned down," Donut cried, pulling out of Wash's grip, "How are we supposed to-"

Suddenly one of the grenades on Donut's back exploded, and with a cry of pain, he was thrown to the floor.

"DONUT!" Wash and Simmons screamed.

Wash looked out and just spotted Locus as he switched on his cloak. He realized that Locus must have shot the grenade with a sniper round and set it off. Then he turned and knelt next to the motionless Donut. The pink private's shoulder was scorched black, and his head was lolled to one side.

"Is he dead?" Simmons breathed, on the verge of tears.

Wash put his hand on Donut's neck to feel for a pulse, "No, but he's unconscious."

Simmons sighed in relief, "Good, because I did not want to go through that again."

"Felix, we're a man down!" Wash yelled out the window, "Where is that back-up?"

"They should be here in a few minutes," Felix replied.

Rhode looked up from his boundary and yelled back, "We don't have a few minutes! If we can't get Freckles online, we don't stand a chance!"

"Such bullcrap..." Tucker turned back towards the canyon and as he did, he suddenly remembered the words he and Wash had exchanged while he'd been training.

"Why do we have to train so much?"

"I'm trying to help you!"

"Help us with what? Defending against attack? No one is going to attack us!"

"You never know if someone, or something, will attack."

Tucker's eyes widened at that last thought. It was all so clear now; Wash wasn't paranoid at all, someone was attacking them now! He suddenly felt guilty about berating his leader making him run those drills, but at the same time, he knew that the fate of the Reds and Blues rested with him.

His face set into a determined look as he grabbed his rifle and sword then he charged off into the canyon.

"Hey!" Grif yelled, "Where are you going?"

Wash looked up and gasped. "Tucker!"

But the aqua Spartan ignored him as he darted through the canyon. As he ran, he could feel a strength in his legs he never knew he had.

Two Feds poked their heads out from cover, but Tucker barely paused as he pulled out his rifle and shot them in the head, "Boosh!"

A row of mines blocked his way ahead, and another soldier armed with a minigun stepped out from behind a rock, ready to stop him in his tracks. But instead, Tucker put on a burst of speed and jumped right over the mines and over the soldier.

Before the Fed could react, Tucker raised his rifle and fired at the mines, setting them off and taking out the soldier, "Boo-ya!"

As he reached the base, a Fed appeared at the doorway but Tucker drew out his sword, switched it on and cut down the solider, "And, swish!"

He then ran into the computer room and approached the screen, still showing the picture downloading, "Screw you, Basebook!"

And with a swing of his sword, the computer was destroyed.

 **XXX**

Back at Blue Base, the computer there flashed a new message: Recharging in progress...

"He did it!" Simmons cheered, "We're getting power!"

Below them, Freckles slowly raised his head, "CHARGING."

Rhode beamed to himself, "Way to go, Tucker."

At Red Base, Tucker had just stepped outside when he heard a click behind his head, "Freeze!"

Tucker whirled round to find that a Fed had crept up behind him and was now aiming a rifle at his head, "Oh crap!"

"You and your friends have caused us a lot of trouble," the Fed sneered, "Now lay down your weapon-"

Suddenly a shot rang out and the Fed let out a gasp and fell to the ground dead.

"What the crap?" Tucker turned again and spotted a Spartan in brown armor stepping into the room, holding a pistol out.

"Pendejo," the Spartan growled.

"Dos.0?" Tucker gasped.

"(No, idiot,)" the Spartan retorted.

Tucker recognized the voice at once, "Lopez! That was awesome! Where'd you get that body?"

Lopez bowed his head slightly, "(I took it from an annoying moron.)"

"I don't know what you just said, but that's great," Tucker beamed, patting Lopez's shoulder, "Now let's get out of here!"

As Lopez followed Tucker back to Blue Base, he gave a derisive snort, "(Psh. 'Dos.0.' I'm Lopez the Heavy.)"

Back at Blue Base, Freckles slowly got to his feet, "SHIELDS TWENTY FIVE PERCENT."

With Freckles being recharged, the Reds and Blues' spirits rose just as high.

Sarge climbed onto the top of a box and fired his shotgun, taking some encroaching Feds, "Ha! Take that, you seemingly infinite number of soldiers!"

"Yeah!" Grif cheered as he, Simmons and even Caboose surprisingly shot down some soldiers, "How's it feel to get your butts kicked by a bunch of losers? ...Wait."

"Everyone together!" Wash yelled from the balcony, "We can do this!"

But in the corner, Locus had uncloaked and was now aiming a powerful railgun right at the group, "No. You can't."

"Come on, everyone! Let's drive those Feds right outta- AAARRRGHH!" A blast of energy had hit Wash in the chest and he was thrown off the balcony and onto the sandbags.

"WASH!" Rhode screamed as Tucker and Lopez rejoined the group.

"Oh no!" Caboose gasped.

Simmons quickly ran to Wash's side, "Is he okay?"

Before anyone could reply, a shot rang out and Lopez gave an electronic warble as he fell to the ground.

"Crap! Lopez!" Tucker gasped, ducking down behind a rock to avoid the snipers.

"(Seriously?!)" Lopez groaned, as sparks shot out of the hole in his head, "(I just got this body!)"

"You stay away from my men!" Sarge bellowed, "If anybody's gonna kill 'em, it's gonna be me!"

But then another blast of energy from Locus's railgun smashed into the box that Sarge was standing on, throwing him backwards into the air.

"WAAAHHH- OOF!" He smashed into the wall of the base and slumped to the ground.

"Sarge!" Grif yelled.

"Nooo!" Simmons screamed.

Then another rocket-launcher Warthog rolled up towards them.

"Incoming!" Felix yelled.

The Reds and Blues still standing stared in horror as the turret turned towards them. But then Freckles rose to his feet and stomped out in front of the group. The gunner fired and the missiles blasted into the Mantis with powerful force. Plumes of smoke belched out of his cabin, his turrets crumpled and caught fire and sparks shot out all over his body.

"FRECKLES, NOOOOO!!!" Caboose screamed.

Simmons, Grif, Rhode, and Tucker swapped helpless looks and Felix bowed his head sadly. It was over for them. The Feds had won...

But suddenly a loud explosion shot the canyon. The Reds and Blues looked round to find the cause. Then another explosion rang out, louder this time, and Tucker suddenly realized that it had come from the tunnel where their obstacle course was laid out.

Seconds later, a third explosion blasted some rocks out from the cave and then, dozens of tan-armored soldiers burst out from the tunnel, guns blazing, "FOR THE NEW REPUBLIC!"

Felix let out a disbelieving laugh, "They're here! That's our back-up!"

As the group watched, the Rebel army charged in front of them and opened fire.

One soldier climbed onto a rock and shot down the two snipers, "Suck it, you Fed scum!"

Then amazingly, despite the severe damage to his body, Freckles staggered to his feet and raised his missile turret, "E-E-ENGAGING-GING T-TARGETS-S."

He fired his missiles and took out the Warthog. Then he lifted his gun turret and started shooting at the Feds.

"Get to the cave!" Felix yelled at the others, "We've gotta go!"

"But what about Wash and Freckles?" Caboose cried.

"Quick, someone help me carry Sarge!" Simmons shouted, pulling on his leader's shoulders.

But then, two of the Rebels guarding the base were gunned down. The third soldier looked around in terror, unaware of Locus approaching him from behind.

"Wait! What're- GAH!" he suddenly gasped as Locus snapped his neck.

"There's no time!" Felix yelled, pulling Simmons away from Sarge, "Get outta here!"

Caboose turned to his damaged pet, "But-"

"Come on, Caboose!" Grif snapped, dragging Caboose behind him as they followed Felix and Simmons.

"What are you doing?" Tucker yelled, running after them, "Where's Wash?"

"He's still at the base!" Simmons replied.

"What?"

Felix ran up to the leader of the Rebels, "Fall back, soldier! We need to get away!"

"But Sir, if we leave now, they'll just follow us back to headquarters!" the leader replied.

"Crap!" Felix dashed off down the tunnel, "Someone get me some explosives!"

"Fall back!" the leader called to his troops, "Fall back!"

As the Rebels began to run back to the tunnel, Rhode spotted movement back at Blue Base, "Wait, guys! There he is!"

With a grunt of pain, Wash staggered to his feet. Fortunately the blast that had hit him wasn't too serious, but his chest felt like it was on fire and his head was spinning.

"Wash, come on!" he heard Tucker call to him and Rhode run further in the tunnel, "We've gotta seal this tunnel!"

Wash just turned and watched as several Rebels were slaughtered by Locus and his men who were fast approaching the tunnel. He knew he couldn't get to the others in time, and he also knew that they were in terrible danger if the Feds caught them. He didn't know why they were needed so badly, but he would die if he'd let his team down. But what could he do?

It was then that he noticed how weak the cliff above the tunnel looked, like it would come down any moment. Looking round, he quickly spotted Freckles coming towards the Feds, shooting them down, and an idea came to him.

"Freckles!" he called as loud as he could, "Shake!"

Heeding the command given to him days ago, Freckles raised his foot and slammed it violently into the ground, making the earth tremble with great force. Several Feds were thrown to the ground by the impact, but the effect on the cliff was much greater. Rocks broke off from the face and cascaded down over the tunnel entrance. Wash quickly threw his hands over his head as a cloud of dust billowed up.

"Hey Wash!" Tucker suddenly felt the ground shake and looked up to see rocks tumbling towards him, "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Out of the way!" Felix quickly pulled him aside.

Seconds later, the rocks crashed down on the spot that they'd been standing on, and soon the entrance was sealed.

Tucker stared at the rocks in horror, "Wash, nooo!"

He tried to run towards the entrance, but Felix held him back, "Tucker, don't! We have to get outta here!"

Tucker let Felix pull him away but his eyes were still on the sealed entrance, "WASHINGTON!"

In the canyon, Wash lowered his hands and turned to the tunnel.

As the dust settled, he could see the rocks had completely covered the entrance, and he breathed a sigh of relief, "Good luck, guys. You're gonna need it out there."

"Not as much as you'll need it here," came a deep growl from behind him.

It was the last thing he heard before he felt a sharp blow on the back of his head and everything faded to black...

 **XXX**

 **Man that was long! I didn't know who Rhode should go with at first, but since half of Season 12 is with the New Republic, I decided to send him there. Till next time guys!**


	20. Chapter 19: Lost, But Not Forgotten

**Chapter 19: Lost, But Not Forgotten**

The first thing Tucker heard as he came to was a female voice, "He's waking up..."

Slowly he opened his eyes and found himself staring at a metallic ceiling. Then a young woman wearing the clothing of a medic appeared in his vision, sweeping a small light over his eyes and making him blink. Tucker was puzzled. He tried to think back. The last thing he remembered was a great tremor then a rock slide; he was being dragged away by someone and then... nothing.

Carefully he sat up, feeling a dull pain in his head. Lifting up his hand to rub it, he saw that he was wearing his black-and-aqua undersuit. He then spotted the rest of his armor lying nearby.

He tried to stand up but then Felix grabbed his shoulders and held him back.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy now," the mercenary said in a gentle whisper, "Just take it easy. You've been knocked out for a while, there's nothing to worry about. You're safe, Tucker."

Tucker shook his head, still feeling groggy.

"Ugh, what?" he managed to say in a weakened croak.

"You took a rock to the back of the head," Felix replied, "Good news is, we made it back to base undetected."

"Back to base?"

Felix carefully helped Tucker get to his feet then led him to a window and pointed outside, "Welcome to the New Republic."

Tucker took a moment to look around. The complex he was in had been built into a huge cave. The tunnel below them stretched out for miles with several structures built into the walls. Soldiers wearing tan armor with olive-green trim and silver visors marched along the corridors or kept watch on the balconies.

"Felix, what is going on?" Tucker asked, "Where is everyone?"

"Grif, Simmons, Rhode, and Caboose are up in the main compound," Felix replied, pointing to a large building at the back of the cave.

"Well, what about everyone else?" Tucker added, "What about Sarge? What about Wash?"

Felix swapped a worried look with the medic who quickly left the room, "Umm... I'm gonna go."

"Thanks, doc," Felix called.

"Dude, do not mess with me right now," Tucker growled.

Felix sighed and bowed his head, "We had to leave them, Tucker."

Tucker's eyes widened in shock and his glasses nearly fell off his face, "What?"

"Look, the Feds were closing in," Felix replied, "If we stayed any longer, they would have taken you too."

"No! That's bullcrap!"

"That's war, Tucker! Not everyone makes it back!" Felix drew in a breath to calm down, "You guys put up a good fight. I can see why Kimball wanted you."

Tucker was still angry, "Who the heck is Kimball?"

"I am," a prim female voice responded.

Tucker turned as another soldier stepped into the ward. She was wearing tan armor like the other soldiers, but hers had cobalt-blue trim and her visor was blue. Though her face wasn't visible, Tucker could tell that the soldier had the air of someone experienced in combat, and a great leader.

"Vanessa Kimball, leader of the New Republic," the soldier said, taking Tucker's hand and shaking it firmly, "I'm very glad to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Uh, yeah," Tucker replied uncertainly.

"Your friends are waiting for you up near the mess hall," Kimball said, "It's just north of here. Why don't you go get changed and then catch up with them? We'll talk later."

"Yeah," Tucker picked up his armor and went outside the ward to get dressed.

Once he was gone, Kimball turned to face Felix, "You're not getting paid the full amount."

"I know," Felix sighed.

"You're lucky you're getting paid at all."

"I know!"

Kimball stepped up to the window and watched as Tucker, now dressed in his armor and carrying his helmet under one arm, made his way towards the main compound, "Are they as good as we hoped?"

"I think so," Felix replied, stepping next to her, "Either that or they're just really lucky."

Kimball nodded, giving a faint frown, "Well, they probably don't feel very lucky."

 **XXX**

Meanwhile, Tucker managed to find the others standing outside the mess hall, which was closed. He was certain that the others were as concerned about Sarge and Wash as he was. Indeed, Caboose was sitting on a bench, holding his helmet in his hands and looking very despondent, Rhode doing the same, except with his helmet on, but Grif and Simmons were too busy arguing to even think about it.

"It's a small rebel army, Grif," Simmons yelled.

"It's poor customer service," Grif retorted, wiping crumbs of food off his mouth.

"You were eating everything!"

"I'm an emotional eater! What can I say?"

Just then, Caboose looked up and spotted his teammate, "Tucker?"

"Hey," Tucker called out glumly.

"'Sup," Grif replied.

Tucker looked around the room, "Man, what is going on?"

"After you were knocked out, we were taken to this huge cave somewhere beneath the jungle," Rhode explained.

Tucker raised an eyebrow, "These guys live in a cave?"

"They're rebels!" Simmons cried, "Of course they live in a cave! It's hidden."

"Nah, I'm with Tucker," Grif argued, "I was expecting some awesome snow base or something."

"What? Why?"

"That's what they had in Star Wars!"

"How is that even relevant?"

Grif folded his arms, "Tell me this is not just like Star Wars. Tell me."

"Tucker does have a glowing sword," Caboose pointed out.

"See?" Grif shouted, "Tucker has a glowing sword, Simmons!"

Tucker glanced between them, "Man, we're really all that made it?"

Everyone looked up and suddenly it hit them. They were indeed the only ones that had escaped the canyon. Their battle against the Feds had decimated their numbers, and it was only by Wash's sacrifice that they were able to escape. Guilt and despair swept through them like a flood.

Simmons felt tears trickling down his eyes and he rubbed them off. He then looked at his fingers and remembered that the tears weren't made of water but of Freon, which, in turn, made him remember that he was a cyborg, and that was because of Sarge. He closed his hand into a fist and then bit into it to stifle his sobs.

Grif at first didn't feel any remorse. But then his nose stared to twitch as a sneeze built up, and he quickly turned his head.

"Aah- AAHHCHOOO!" When he opened his eyes afterward, he saw a small hole in the cave wall, a hole made by the small blast of buckshot expelled from his nose. Seeing the buckshot made him remember the many times Sarge had shot him "by accident". He turned away from the hole and sniffed loudly, feeling the remorse now.

Rhode looked at his right arm, remembering how he got it. Wash had told him that Carolina never left Rhode's bedside when he was unconscious. Rhode thought about how now he might not see her again.

'Why?' He thought, 'Why did you have to leave, Carolina? You could have made a difference in the fight...'

Tucker meanwhile was remembering all the things he'd shouted at Wash about; the drills that had ended up saving them, the times he'd run off on his own that had turned out well, the disciplining that had brought them closer as friends. Of the five Reds and Blues gathered, the guilt flooded through Tucker the most. He'd never had the chance to apologize to Wash for everything he'd said, and now he never would. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, holding back the tears.

For several minutes, nothing was said between them.

Then Felix came running up to them, "Hey, something's come up. Follow me."

With a nod to each other, the Reds and Blues set off after Felix. As they walked, several soldiers stopped in their duties and watched them pass in amazement. Some prodded their friends and pointed them out, and whispers spread through them like a swarm.

 **XXX**

On one balcony, a soldier stared at the Reds and Blues.

"Dude, I'm telling you," he called to his friend, "It's them!"

"Whoa," his friend breathed, leaning over the railing. "Maybe we're _not_ gonna die."

 **XXX**

Soon the Reds and Blues entered a meeting room and found Kimball waiting for them in front of a briefing desk.

Once they were inside, Kimball addressed them, "Michael J. Caboose, Dexter Grif, Richard Simmons, Agent Rhode Island, and Lavernius Tucker. The five of you have traveled great distances, retrieved ancient artifacts, brought corrupt men to justice, and bested the most dangerous war criminals this galaxy has ever known. And now it seems fate has brought you to our doorstep."

"No pressure," Grif muttered.

"I am aware that you've been informed of our situation, and I understand your reluctance to fight a war that is not your own..." Kimball turned to face them, "But we've just received word that the Federal Army has your friends alive and in captivity."

"They're okay?!" Tucker gasped.

"What's going to happen to them?" Simmons asked.

"We're not sure," Kimball admitted, "But, if they are alive, it means they can be rescued. And it means this war may become yours after all."

"Ah, crap," Rhode groaned.

"So, I'm going to make you a promise. If you help us take back our planet, we'll help you take back your friends, and when it's all over, you can take our best ship and fly as far away from this place as you want," The Reds and Blues swapped hopeful looks as Kimball spoke, "I know it's not the best offer, but what do you say?"

"Look, lady," Grif replied, "I don't know what you think we can do, but I seriously doubt we can actually do it."

Kimball bowed her head sadly, "This war has gone on for too long. Too many people have died, and our remaining soldiers are young, inexperienced, and scared."

She then looked up at them, "But you give them hope. They're heard what you've done and they will look to you for guidance. They will run with you into battle, they will follow your orders, if you choose to lead them. I can't do this alone."

Simmons looked nervous, "Sarge is gone. Wash is gone. How the heck are we supposed to do this without them?"

"Yeah," Tucker agreed. "None of us have ever led anyone before. Except maybe Rhode."

"Well, not for very long," Caboose murmured.

"The closest I've ever gotten is second," Rhode said, "So, yeah. No experience."

"I know," Kimball placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward to look at them, "But you just need to try."

Those words struck a chord with Tucker, because that was exactly what Wash had told him.

 **XXX**

Within minutes, the five Reds and Blues had made their way out of the briefing room and out into a large cavern where several soldiers were waiting.

Simmons could tell from their postures and the way they nervously held their guns that these soldiers were young and frightened, "So, what now, Tucker?"

"Hmmm..." Tucker thought it over then put on his helmet and turned to the soldiers, "Alright, let's run some drills!"

"Aww man!" Grif groaned while Rhode smiled.

But Caboose just grinned, "And break!"

 **XXX**

 **You know, it may not be my favorite season, but 11 had a well done finale. Really sucked you in. Then it was topped by 12. Now for the short epilogue. Till next time guys! *hums 'Contact'***


	21. Epilogue: Control

**Epilogue: Control**

Several miles away from the New Republic's hidden base, the Federal Army had also returned from the canyon. Their mission hadn't been a complete success; they'd only managed to capture half of the Reds and Blues, but Locus reminded them that two of their captives were the respective leaders of the teams, and without them, it was only a matter of time before the others were caught. Besides, they had managed to claim a far greater prize at Crash Site Bravo...

Now, Locus was in his quarters, having a serious debriefing with his mysterious superior on his computer, "We've searched Crash Site Bravo, Sir."

"And?" his superior's voice asked in a disguised voice.

"The crate was recovered, intact and completely sealed."

"Wonderful news."

Locus turned to look at the large metal crate next to him, noting the bullet holes around the latch, "However, it looks as if they tried to blast it open. Do you think they knew?"

"Highly unlikely," the voice replied, "Report back to control as soon as possible, Locus?"

"Are you sure keeping them alive is the best course of action?"

"Do you feel threatened by the simulation troopers, Locus?" the voice asked with a hint of derision.

Locus sneered behind his helmet, "Of course not."

"Then we will continue with our endeavors as previously discussed. Do I make myself clear?"

 **XXX**

At the other end of the line, the mysterious caller waited silently for Locus's response, "Yes sir."

A smile crossed the figure's face, a smile hidden behind her greenish-blue-seafoam-turquoise Recon helmet, "Good, I'll be there before you know it."

 **XXX**

 **And Carolina is back! Now to wait an entire half season for her. Next up is Season 12! Till next time guys!**


End file.
